Eternity and the Sparrow
by TresMaxwell
Summary: JackxWill On the quest for immortality, Jack hits a few bumps in the road. Mutiny, a lack of rum, saucy tarts and so much more. All he really wants is the Pearl and Will, but nothing's that easy...
1. Possessive

TITLE: Eternity and the Sparrow

RATING: M (and, may I have the warnings please!) For language, violence, relatively graphic M/M sex and anything else my dirty little mind could come up with.

SPOILER ALERT!! If you haven't watched the third movie, please don't read this, I talk about it quite a bit! And, if you haven't watched it, then what the hell are you doing reading fan fiction?! Go WATCH IT!! The story is set at the very tail end of At World's End, after Will and Elizabeth do their business on the beach, but before you see Jack in Tortuga. The rest goes out from there.

PAIRING: Jack/Will AKA M/M If you don't like it, don't read it. If you flame me, I'll giggle about your stupidity over tea.  
ARCHIVES: If you'd like, just let me know and give me credit…  
FEEDBACK: sits up on hind legs and begs Please…  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters of Pirates of the Caribbean they belong to Disney (lucky bastards) and all of the creators. The story idea is entirely mine. Don't bother suing me, I live in a cardboard box in the gutter, or at least my mind does…

Last, but not least, I'm in desperate need of a Beta reader. I don't have one and I miss stupid things unless I read it aloud (and that just gets plain awkward sometimes).

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William Turner, son of Bootstrap Bill Turner and Captain of the immortal Flying Dutchman, stood looking out at the great expanse of ocean that was both his master and his cage. This had not been in the plan. No, Jack was meant to take the Dutchman and he would become the new Captain of the Black Pearl. They'd worked everything out, sitting with their heads close together in Jack's quarters and speaking in whispers to prevent anyone from overhearing.

They had played out the plan on the deck of the Pearl for the sake of letting the night crew spread the word amongst the rest. They let the others believe that Jack had tricked Will into letting him have the Dutchman and the immortality that came with it. They had to do it for the sake of the plan, so that they could acquire the Dutchman without Barbossa or Elizabeth being aware of what was truly going on.

Jack had always been meant for the sea, which was why he was willing to take the ship that came with a price. He didn't need to go on land for much of anything, so being bound away from it all but a day out of ten years was no problem for the wily Captain. While William had the blood of a pirate, his feet had spent far too many years on the solid earth for him to spend the rest of eternity sailing.

Behind him, the crew of the late Davy Jones went about the business of repairing the damage done by the Black Pearl and the storms of the goddess Calypso. None bothered him. It was the first time in many, many years that any of them had been as close to human as they'd become when they acquired a new Captain, so they had no complaints about the death of Davy Jones. The man, no, the beast, had been a harsh master and they were glad to see him gone. Now, the next time they docked, they could go on land without everyone knowing precisely what they were. They were still pirates, but at least they were no longer monsters of the deep.

Will leaned on the railing of the ship and fingered the ragged scar on his chest. Whether he liked it or not, he was bound to the Dutchman and her crew, by body, heart, and soul. A tired sigh escaped his lips. Jack had done what had to be done, but he wished there had been another way.

At the young man's right, someone cleared their throat. Will tore his eyes away from the sea to look at his father. There was a bit more resemblance between them now that Bootstrap was no longer covered in various pieces of ocean life. He could see now why the crew of the Black Pearl had thought he was Bill himself come back from Davy's Locker to haunt them.

"Sir, our major repairs are complete. The crew and I believe that we can finish the rest without remaining anchored," he reported lightly.

Father and son had decided that it would be best to follow rank while in front of the Dutchman's crew, but allow themselves to relax once they were on their own. Even so, Bill didn't seem too formal when referring to his son as 'Captain'.

William nodded and turned back to the ocean. He could still see the sliver of land where the rest of the pirates had returned after the battle with the East India Trading company. They'd gone over to the locker as soon as he'd finished his farewell with Elizabeth, but, once they'd sorted out the mess that Jones had left; Will had insisted that they return. He wasn't sure he wanted to give up the sight of land just yet.

As if reading his thoughts, Bootstrap commented, "But it would be easier to finish if we stayed."

"Just for a bit longer."

"Aye Captain," Bill confirmed and turned to continue his business, but his son's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, and sailor..."

"Aye sir?"

The younger Turner straightened up to meet his father in the eyes. "I'll be needing a first mate, do you think you're up to it?" he asked in a very serious tone.

"I couldn't be prouder to accept that honor," he replied, meaning every word. It had been so long since he'd left young William as a child, and he had never expected him to become the great pirate Captain that stood before him. With a faint smile, Will dismissed him so he could give out his Captain's orders.

It wouldn't be so bad, sailing an eternity with his father. He could certainly make up for lost time that way. That's right, if he just kept finding the silver lining to this whole thing, then none of it would seem so bad. He had wanted immortality, even if it wasn't this way.

Jack had stumbled across a very intriguing location on the Chinese maps, the Fountain of Youth. The plan that had fallen into pieces had involved Jack acquiring the Flying Dutchman and Will traveling to the Fountain of Youth to obtain immortality, that way the Black Pearl and the Dutchman could both sail forever, plundering and pillaging in the pirate way for as long as the Captains felt like continuing. It was kind of like a pirate Nirvana.

Now, Will wasn't so sure that Jack would keep to his side. Captain Sparrow might go after the Fountain and just flip the points of the agreement, but he still had the Pearl and there really wasn't a reason to continue chasing immortality. But, with pirates as no exception, most every man wanted to live forever.

It was just too hard to tell what Jack was thinking. Every time Will had thought Jack had betrayed him by throwing him to the hounds, it always ended up being part of Jack's greater plan. Unfortunately, Jack had more faith in Will than Will had in Jack. But, when that blade had pierced his chest and he'd seen the utterly mortified look on Sparrow's face, he'd known that Jack wouldn't let him come to harm lightly. Elizabeth had been positively sobbing at his side, and yet he hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from the expression that had dominated Jack's features.

With the storm raging around them, Will had barely felt the pirate lord's hand wrap around his own and place it about the hilt of the dagger Jack had been holding. Pain had been tearing through his body much like the massive hurricane was ripping through the ocean when Jack had whispered in his ear, "You'll not be dying here like this, dear William." He hadn't believed him. He knew what such a wound did to a man and he knew the blade in his chest was what was keeping him from breathing properly. Comforting though Jack's words were, the world was fading to black when the pirate had guided his hand into stabbing the heart of Davy Jones.

Will turned away from the sea a second time and stalked towards the Captain's quarters. Things were too complicated. On a whim during a battle, he'd gone ahead and married Elizabeth, thinking that it would make her happy in their last moments on earth. Then they'd survived the damn thing and he royally wished he hadn't. Now he had another little silver lining to being the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, he didn't have to make good on that promise except once every ten years. She really wasn't the one he wanted to be bound to.

Elizabeth was strong, and Elizabeth was smart, but he'd decided Elizabeth wasn't the only fish in the sea the first time he'd gotten out onto the open ocean. It wasn't quite that simple. Will had been in love with the girl, he really had, and there was still some of that remaining, but someone had shown him what he had truly wanted and there was no turning back. There was far too much pirate in his blood to just settle down on land with the pretty lass next store. A life with Elizabeth promised calm and effortless living. It had only taken one man to reveal to him how much he belonged with the sea and the chaos that comes with it.

So, he'd made good on his promise to rescue Elizabeth and then she became a fellow pirate and never seemed to leave his side. He didn't mind her so much when he thought they'd lost Jack forever, but now he knew that the infamous pirate could not be lost so easily.

William stopped at the door to his quarters when he heard a very familiar voice.

"Now Captain Turner, why would ye go and give away treasure that rightfully belonged to me?" Jack's lilting speech had the faintest hint of anger to it, but only just enough to give his words an edge. Will knew exactly why he was pissed and it was more than understandable.

The younger man allowed a smirk to creep onto his face before he faced Jack. He leaned back against the doors of the Captain's quarters casually and returned, "Because I knew Elizabeth would take good care of it, so I told her it belonged to her."

Jack's lip twitched just slightly before his cheerful demeanor slid back into place. Speaking from experience, Will was well aware that the man was more dangerous when he was willing to smile at you. It meant the wheels were turning, and not in your favor. Jack sauntered towards him and slammed his hand on the door beside Will's head, before informing him in a deadly quiet voice, "But it didn't belong to that little tart, it belonged to me dear William."

"We didn't exactly discuss where it was going once everything was said and done," Will commented, somehow managing to keep the smirk on his face. "By the way, how did you get on my ship?"

"It's called a dingy, boy. Ye can row from one ship to another or from land to yer ship or from yer ship to the land. It has many uses. As far as climbing onto yer ship, it was hardly any trouble."

Will fell silent, he hadn't even noticed that the Pearl left the harbor, but a quick glance around showed that she had anchored nearby. He would definitely have to start paying better attention if he planned on being the great Captain everyone was expecting him to be.

Jack continued, "Now, how do ye plan on prying it away from the bonnie lass so that it might be given to me?"

"I do care for her Jack and she deserves to have some piece of me while I'm gone," Will argued calmly. He didn't regret his decision. Jack was right, it did belong to him, but the way Jack's life ran, who knows where it would end up. More often than not, Jack was Captain of nothing and as soon as his crew took off with the Pearl again, what belonged to him would have been lost. Elizabeth would handle things a bit more carefully and find a good place to leave the chest.

"Then ye should have given her a leg, because yer heart was mine!" Jack snapped.

Some of Will's crew stopped their work to stare at the man who would dare yell at their Captain. A rather large chap who used to have been more hammerhead shark than human dropped the line he was winding and started towards them. He was rolling up his sleeves in preparation to throw Jack overboard when Will shook his head slightly. The sailor got the nonverbal signal and reluctantly went back to work, but kept a sharp eye on what was going on.

"Just because I gave it to her doesn't mean that she can ever see it," Will said as he resumed the conversation, returning his eyes to Jack. He reached inside his shirt and pulled up the twin headed key that could only belong to one treasure chest. "This is yours."

For a brief moment, Jack was stricken with silence. Twice, he moved his mouth as if to speak and found no words to say. The Captain reached up to take the offering with an unsure hand. "So this is for me then lad?"

"That's right. She may have the physical object, Jack Sparrow, but you're the only one that can touch it… you're the only one that can even get to it," Will murmured softly.

The Captain of the Black Pearl turned the piece of metal over on his palm. It was such a simple device to mean so much. "So the box itself may belong to her, but what's inside is mine… interestin' way ye chose to handle this William," Jack said admiringly as he tied the leather strap around his neck. The key fell heavily against his chest, the weight and warmth a fine reminder of what Will had given up.

"If you're appeased then, might I suggest that we move inside my quarters, and out of sight? My crew has been getting a little wound up with you yelling at me."

The edge of Jack's mouth curved into a delicious smile and he took another step forward, coming within a hair's breadth of pressing their bodies together. "For that reason alone, dear William, or did ye have something else in mind," he questioned slyly, knowing his lover better then one might give him credit for.

Will's cocky smirk faded when he felt the other man's body heat so close to his skin. His eyes fell nearly shut and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Instead of the calming air of the sea, he could smell only rum and spices, with a faint undertone of tobacco, a scent that was distinctly Jack. It helped nothing to settle him. A driving need began to twist his senses, a need that he was more than familiar with. It had been ruling his mind off and on since his first wildly passionate night with Jack, and he'd yet to be rid of it.

A soft moan escaped, unbidden, from between his lips, causing Sparrow's well deserved smugness to increase ten-fold.

"Ah, so ye do have something else in mind. Well, I'm not sure I'll be giving what you're wanting because I didn't receive the treasure that was rightfully mine, savvy?"

In his current state, Will had a hard time wrapping his head around Jack's strange way with words, but the phrase involving 'not giving' came through clear enough. The younger man whined softly, "Jack, please… you keep track of things better when they're easy to carry on your person…"

"Are ye accusing me off losing things, whelp?" Jack interjected.

This argument wasn't going to go well if Will's blood kept traveling southward, away from his brain. "Well, yes. You tend to lose anything bigger than your hat or gun… You even lose the Pearl more frequently than any man I've ever heard of."

"Barbossa has lost her more than his share too," the pirate grumped in a strangely child-like way. It earned him an exasperated look.

Jack was taking way too much enjoyment out of teasing poor Will, since the boy could hardly stay on his feet and was flushing from more than just the Caribbean heat. He truly wasn't angry at William any longer, but it was so easy to keep him going. The key was a fine prize and he was more than content with it. When he decided Turner had had enough, he brought his hand to rest in the small of Will's back so the young man didn't tumble backwards when he opened the cabin door.

"Alright Will, I do lose plenty of riff-raff. Now, let's get ye taken care of before ye do something you'll regret on the deck of yer lovely new ship," Jack said as he maneuvered Will backwards into the Captain's quarters, shutting the door firmly behind him.

He paused briefly inside, examining the strangely large space. Despite the practical knowledge that there should be a bed in the cabin, Jack didn't immediately recognize any surface as one for sleeping (or for other activities that one might require a bed for). The first time he'd been in the cabin, he'd been a bit preoccupied distracting a pair of rather slow guards that he was sure he'd seen before.

Will finally seemed to regain his footing and followed Jack's gaze around the cabin. A good deal of the area was taken up by a large pipe organ, one that Will really preferred not to hear again any time soon. The haunting song of Davy Jones still rang clear in his mind from his few, fateful days aboard the Flying Dutchman.

"The only time I ever saw him sleeping, he was at the organ," the younger man mentioned softly.

"Well, doesn't that bugger… where in the hell are we supposed to…" Jack started to say, but was interrupted by a rather delectable pair of lips on his own. Finding a bed faded from his mind as he wound one arm around Will's back and slid the other up to rest his hand at the base of his neck. Despite Jack having to teach the virgin everything he knew, the boy was a very good kisser.

Will stepped into Jack's hold, pressing their bodies tight together, which was precisely what he'd wanted to do on the deck. Their mouths and tongues danced together like they were old lovers, while, in reality, they'd only been together for a few months… but Will wasn't counting breaks. Without the expanses of time that they'd had to go their separate ways (which was far too long, by any lover's standards), they'd been screwing each other for nearly a year.

However, they couldn't truly be called 'together'. Jack still did whatever the hell he pleased when he was in places like Tortuga on his own, just as Will still had a rendezvous or two with Elizabeth, but this is where they belonged. Will's heart only ever beat faster when it was Jack who was kissing him, Jack who was whispering to him, Jack who was… but he couldn't feel his heartbeat anymore.

Will broke away with the sudden realization and put his hand on his chest.

"What is it whelp?" Concern creased Jack's brow as he brushed a hand through the younger man's soft, curly hair.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to it, Jack. My pulse is usually racing when we do something like this, but I can't feel anything," Will muttered, rubbing the scar like it ached.

Jack considered William's words. Davy had been privy to plenty of sensations, from anger, to fear (even if he didn't show it), to sadness. If the previous Captain could feel such a variety of things, then there was no way that he was going to let Will despair over his missing heartbeat.

The pirate lord grabbed his lover's wrist and tugged him over to the organ bench, forcing him to sit. Jack knelt between Will's knees and placed an open-mouthed kiss on his chest. Fire raced across Will's skin from the point of contact, a trembling aftershock following it. Sparrow pulled away and spread his fingers over the small patch of saliva he'd left. He trailed them down Will's body, allowing his rings to bump teasingly over one dusky nipple before he tugged open the last few buttons on the blood-toned shirt the boy was wearing.

"Tell me, William, do ye still get… what do ye call them… ah, yes, do ye still get butterflies when I do this?" Jack questioned and ran his tongue up the young man's exposed stomach.

A breathy 'yes' escaped Will's partially open mouth.

"Good, and do ye still get lightheaded when I do this?" His mouth descended upon taut, dusky nub that he'd teased only moments before. William gasped and tangled his hands in Jack's dark mane of dreadlocks as the pirate lightly bit down on the tender piece of skin.

Fighting through a wave a pleasure, Captain Turner managed a croaked, "Yes Jack!"

When he was satisfied with his work on the first nipple, Jack moved to its neglected partner and lavished the same attention upon it. By the time he was done, his lover was panting and mewling softly in his ear.

Jack's voice dropped to the low rumble of distant thunder, "And do ye still forget yer name when I do this?" He slipped one nimble hand down the front of Will's loosely laced breeches and palmed his swollen erection. The pirate let a gold tinged smile cross his face as Will lost any eloquence that he might have had in favor of moaning loudly. "See lad, there's nothing wrong with ye. But, somewhere, Miss Swan is staring at that box of yers because that heart is makin' quite a racket."

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Somewhere, in Shipwreck cove, Elizabeth was eyeing the black treasure chest of William Turner with the green tint of jealousy. She set her jaw and crossed her slender arms over her chest. The man's heart didn't usually quicken in the heat of battle and she could only think of one other reason why William would be quite so worked up. No, she would not be cast off as easily as that.

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"Now, ye sit still for a minute lad, I'm gonna' find us a place to do this," Jack said as he disentangled himself from Will's clingy grasp. The young Captain finally released the other man and leaned back heavily on the bench.

"Jack, why can't we just… just, it would be easy enough to just… please…"

Jack chuckled and gently mocked the aroused youth as he searched, "Articulate, aren't ye boy?"

"Shut up Sparrow," Will groaned.

Tucked away in the edge of the cabin, around a rather massive column, was a divan that was sunken into the outer wall of the boat. There were intricate carvings of sea monsters and soulful faces framing the tiny bed, earning a raised eyebrow from Jack. "Ye really need to think about redecoratin' this ship William, but, right now, may I suggest that ye get yer skinny arse in here?"

Will hopped to his feet and jogged around to join his lover, asking breathlessly, "You found a bed… well, not quite huh?"

Jack shrugged. "It's not a king's bed, but it'll do," he said casually and stripped off his jacket and shirt.

Will's chocolate brown eyes drank in the sight of his companion's bare back, roaming freely over his extensive tattoos. He ran two fingers down the line of his hip, just under his breeches to touch his own skin art. The decoration was his first tattoo, inspired by one Captain Jack Sparrow. It didn't help that Will was hopelessly intoxicated when he'd gotten it, but he blamed it mostly on Jack, who really hadn't been that drunk at all. While the memory was fuzzy, he did recall that it had been the other man's idea.

When Will stopped reminiscing, he realized that his lover had stripped out of everything but his bandanna and was waiting with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yer wearin' far too much, William," Jack mentioned in a husky voice. The pirate was usually a patient man (or at least he could sometimes known as remotely patient), but the whelp was standing there with a bulge in his breeches, a completely clueless expression, and his shirt hanging loosely off of one shoulder. The overall look was not helping Jack's 'patience'.

Will shook his head lightly, releasing several curls from his hair tie, and started unlacing his pants. A pair of hands joined his own and soon had the rough material sliding down his legs.

Jack grinned as he revealed the very permanent mark he'd left on the younger man. Nestled between Will's slender hip and the patch of dark, curly hair that started a few finger-spans below his belly button was an ink sparrow that echoed the design on Jack's arm. It was the very semblance of the pirate's possessive nature. What was claimed by Jack would always belong to Jack, and that definitely did not exclude other human beings. Although, William Turner was the first man he'd ever desired enough to mark.

The lad couldn't help being hopelessly adorable and it was fortunate that he had similar desires. Not that Jack could ever allow the words to fall from his mouth, lest they be proved untrue or be seriously broken by some unfortunate event, but he felt that he loved the boy. They had plenty of differences, what with Will being a terribly honest and foolish individual and he being of the reckless, ruthless sort, so there should be no reason for any kind of wanton emotion to take up residence in Jack. But it was there, none the less.

The pirate lord unceremoniously pushed Will onto the small bed and knelt to pull off his companion's boots. With the obstacle out of the way, he removed the whelp's breeches then reached up to strip off his crimson shirt.

"There now, much better," Jack purred, adoring the view of his exposed lover.

"She didn't know what to think of it," Will said softly.

"Hm? Think of what?"

"My tattoo… Elizabeth didn't know what to think of it."

With some aggravation, Jack dragged his eyes away from their pleasant exploration of Will's body to look at the young man's face. "I take it she saw it when you two were off having yer rendezvous on the beach?"

"You know she did Jack, I did ask your permission before I went ashore."

"Aye, that ye did. It's amazing how quickly ye figured out how to walk through ships."

"It was the fastest way to come see you, and it helped that I'd seen Jones do it a time or two."

Jack snorted. "Ye've lost track of why we're here."

"I have?"

The pirate's hand traveled briskly up the pale skin of Will's thigh, and he informed him, "I don't want to talk about the tart, and I don't want to talk about Jones… in fact, I don't really want to talk at all, I want to remind ye of why ye came back to me night after night on the Pearl, savvy?"

Will closed his eyes, loving the heat that Jack's touch inspired on his skin. "I want to be reminded," the youth admitted with a tremor in his voice.

"Good," Jack said and settled on the bed between Will's legs.

The younger man shifted back to make room for his lover, bumping his head on the curved roof of the alcove. He rubbed the sore spot and shot a glare at the offending carving. The sea serpent glared back, unmoving in its mahogany sea. But, the blacksmith quickly forgot the transgression when Jack slid his adept tongue into his entrance.

Will's head dropped back against the carving a second time as he moaned loudly. The slick muscle plunged deep into the young man's body, working wonders against his sweet spot. Stars sparked behind his eyelids.

He hadn't needed to be reminded of why he'd gone back to the pirate again and again, he knew. Jack planted his strong hands on the boy's hips and pulled his tongue out to lave it across the entrance. His bead-encrusted beard brushed against Will's hyper-sensitive skin, making the younger man squirm.

Jack replaced his tongue with two long fingers and twisted them so his knuckles brushed against the bundle of nerves he'd been assaulting with his mouth. Will bucked in his grasp, whining softly.

"I'm ready, Jack, stop fooling around."

"Who's fooling around? I'm tryin' to keep ye from hurtin' any when we get started, ye ungrateful whelp," Jack teased and repositioned himself over his young lover. He worked up a good mouthful of saliva and spit into his hand, slicking his engorged cock thoroughly. It wasn't optimum, but Jack didn't have any oil with him for proper lubrication.

Will draped his legs over the other man's heavily tattooed shoulders and steeled himself for the impending discomfort. Without warning, Jack pushed inside him. The abrupt invasion burned a bit more than usual, causing Will to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes tightly shut.

Words were exhaled languidly into his ear, "Breathe William."

The immortal Captain did as he was told, taking a sharp breath that filled his ignored lungs to the brim. He clutched helplessly at his lover's back until the pain faded. Will heard, but ignored, Jack grumble at him, "Ye should have just let me finish gettin' ye ready."

"Are you going to move, Jack? Or do I have to do it for you," Will gasped in the best mocking tone he could muster.

The pirate lord leaned away from Will, with his eyebrows knit in an expression of musing. "Tell me again why I like ye?"

"Jack…"

"No, really. Yer a meddling little bugger that never listens and…"

"JACK!"

"Hold on, I'm not done. Yer exceedingly stubborn and yer hard headed and not to mention yer unexplainable need to be the hero in any situation and…"

Will gave up on trying to get the man to quit talking and kissed him. The Captain's quarters were pitched into a blissful silence that was very short-lived. Only a few moments later, a muffled groan pierced the quiet.

Jack didn't break the kiss as he began thrusting slowly into William's tight body. His tongue explored the hot grotto of his lover's mouth, while elsewhere he ventured into a much more intimate cavern. One could always find the greatest treasure in caves. Jack gently sucked on Will's lower lip before allowing the lad to breathe.

While the Captain of the Dutchman panted for lost air, Jack busied himself with his exposed neck and shapely collar bone. Both were very good subjects on which to leave temporary marks of ownership. No matter who else touched the young man, he would always belong to Jack and they both knew it.

Desire getting the best of him, Sparrow picked up the pace. Rational thought fled from their minds as they let instinct and primal urge take control. Will pushed back against Jack's driving thrusts, taking the pirate as deep as he could. Together, they fell into the abyss of torturous satisfaction, riding on waves of bliss with every stroke. It was a carnal pleasure that had been known to the likes of mankind since the beginning of time. It was something that most men would do anything to experience on a regular basis.

The finale built slowly in their sweat slicked bodies, release swimming leisurely into their grasp. Jack reached to roughly tug the leather tie-back out of Will's hair, freeing the silky strands to meander through the pirate's fingers. He bit down on the shell of his lover's ear and licked it apologetically when the boy whimpered. Will was too far gone to actually feel the nip and was just voicing the lack of attention his erection was receiving.

"Not yet," Jack panted. Whether the words were directed at Will or spoken more for general consumption could not be deciphered, but the younger pirate tried to follow instruction.

Captain Turner was so close he was trembling. He scraped his unkempt nails down Sparrow's back, leaving angry red welts in his wake. When Jack's mouth descended once more upon his throat, Will wrapped his hand into his dreadlocks and moaned, "Please."

"Not yet," Jack muttered again.

The pace became erratic, lost to their need. The pirate lord pushed firmly against what was coming, hoping to delay it at least remotely, but failing. He locked mouths with his companion as the end approached. It was only moments before the building heat and pleasure was released in a blinding explosion. Will came first, his lover's name on his lips, spilling his passion across his stomach and Jack's hand. His muscles trembled and tightened around his lover, dragging the older man over the edge with him.

When the white faded and reality slowly settled down around them, Jack and Will collapsed in a panting heap. The pirate lord found only enough energy to slide out of young Turner and roll to the side. Will twisted the handful of hair he still had, giving Jack an innocent smirk when the pirate shot an obsidian glare at him.

"What's the plan," William asked lazily, running a thumb over Jack's cheek.

Sparrow turned and sucked the digit into his mouth. He hummed softly before releasing it, running his tongue over the rough pad. "Well, I was thinkin' that I'd stop in Tortuga for supplies and then head after the fount'n."

"You have to make me one promise before you go."

"What is it, William?"

The younger man dragged him up into a fierce kiss. When he pulled away, he whispered mere inches from his mouth, "That these will always belong to me, no matter how many wenches you bed."

Jack raised an eyebrow, replying, "Ye don't want me to kiss anyone else?"

Will nodded.

"Possessive, aren't ye whelp?"

"Oh, like you're one to talk!"

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TBC… yes, I know they've screwed already, but there is more… Lots more…


	2. Tarts of the Difficult Sort

And so it continues… and guess what? The plot starts in this chapter!

Ack, sorry this update took so long. I've been hammering on it pretty continuously, but I've also been working six days a week and going to summer school, so I've been a little busy. I'll try and have the next chapter up a little more quickly.

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Early the next day, Jack was out on the deck of the Flying Dutchman. It was a calm daybreak. The sea barely stirred and there was a soft fog curling around the base of the ships.

By Jack's standards, it was a good morning. He was Captain of a fine pirate ship, had plenty of good rum on said ship, and had banged his lover into the wee hours of the dawn. It was a simple life and he loved it.

William was still in a dead sleep in his quarters and probably wouldn't make an appearance until late noon. The boy was younger than he was, but Jack still had more than enough energy to deal with sex-hungry whelps.

There was a slim crew working Will's ship, keeping it ready for any command that he might toss. Jack resisted the urge to tell them not to expect their Captain any time soon. He had places to be and didn't have time to explain why the boy probably wouldn't get out of bed all day.

Jack tossed a line over the port side, the rope 'thunk'ing solidly against the bottom of his dingy. The catchy little tune 'A Pirate's Life for Me' jumped into his head, so he indulged in a bit of humming. Honestly, he didn't know all the words, but what pirate did? It was the select few lines in the middle that made it memorable anyway.

Jack swung his leg over the side of the ship, but postponed descending to his rowboat when he caught a familiar face looking at him.

"Bootstrap! Ye were always an early riser; I guess things don't change."

Bill didn't appear to be in the best mood, which was rare for the normally placid man. "What is your business with the Captain?" Bootstrap questioned crisply.

His cold tone made Jack pause and pull his leg back over the railing. The pirate lord raised an eyebrow and a good point, "Isn't it a bit too late for the parental concern, mate?"

"I know he's a grown man, but I also know you, Jack. I did get tossed to the locker for you, remember," Bill returned smoothly.

"What's our business is our business and…" Jack paused to think about what had just come out of his mouth, before giving a brief shake of his head and continuing, "So there's no reason for you to be involved in it, savvy?"

The other man scowled. "You hurt my boy, Jack, and I'll have your head."

Captain Sparrow rolled his obsidian eyes skyward and huffed. "What do you take me for…"

"A pirate."

Jack gave him a sardonic smirk for interrupting. "I would be a complete fool if I were to wrongly cross the IMMORTAL Captain of the Flying Dutchman, now wouldn't I? And he's quite capable of killing me himself, so do we have anything else you need to threaten me about?"

William's father continued to give him the hairy eyeball, but didn't bring up any other qualms.

Jack grabbed his line and hopped over the railing once again. As he was about to descend, one more thing came to mind that he felt worthwhile to mention, "Oh, and if I recall correctly, not that I was there, but, I believe it was you who stood up to be tossed to the locker. It wasn't like I was the one doin' the tossing. After all, I'd already been tossed."

Bootstrap cracked a diminutive smile and nodded.

Jack returned the curt nod. There was an immeasurable distance between them that hadn't always been. He felt it the first time he saw Bill again after the mutiny, when he was getting rum out of the hold on the Pearl… when Bootstrap had delivered the black mark Jones had placed upon him. It was not an expanse that could be closed easily. The pirate tried not to think about it.

"You know, you're a good man Jack."

Jack nearly slipped on the Dutchman's side at the words. He looked around quickly as though to see who could have overheard, before hissing at Bill, "Don't say that out loud! I have a reputation to keep mate!"

Bootstrap laughed heartily, something Jack hadn't heard from him in a long time, and waved Sparrow off.

It seemed a sign of some sort. Perhaps an indication that Bill would allow Jack's influence on the whelp's life, or maybe that he'd let go of what had happened on the Pearl and what had led to his servitude on the Dutchman. Whatever it was, it left Jack feeling like the world was finally balancing itself.

He finished the climb to his dingy and picked up the oars, resuming 'A Pirate's Life for Me'. It was a very good morning indeed, he'd inadvertently steadied things with an old friend, banged his lover senseless (though, he mentioned that one already, didn't he?), and was headed to Tortuga, once of his favorite places. There was no way that his wonderful morning wouldn't translate into a wonderful day.

-------

Many hours, bottles of rum, and saucy wenches later, there was only one thing on Jack's mind, "Gone." Again, it happened AGAIN! The Pearl was getting smaller and he wasn't on it, the situation seemed vaguely familiar, although, not entirely unexpected. Barbossa had been in his presence when he'd discovered the Fountain of Youth on the foreign maps, and that was not a treasure that a pirate shared lightly. Not that Barbossa needed a good excuse to mutiny Jack…

He glanced down to find his first mate sleeping on the dock, a burlap teddy bear tucked under his burly arm. Jack removed his arms from around the two wenches he'd been wooing and toed Gibbs in the side. The man snorted slightly upon waking, but immediately began drifting off again.

"Where's my ship?" Jack questioned sharply before the man could return to the foggy realm of dream.

He grunted again and muttered, "But we're ON the ship…" It was only moment before he realized otherwise and surged to his feet.

Jack turned away from his crewman as the sailor began spitting his frustration about being unobservant. The two girls from Tortuga blatantly exchanged skeptical looks, sending Jack's fraying nerves over the edge. He was at the point that he often got to with women, a breaking point that usually got him in quite a bit of trouble, the point that he snapped and said everything that he'd wanted to say since he'd been in the girls' presence.

Before he could stop himself, words spewed out of his mouth in a torrent: No, he didn't love either of them, yes, she looked quite wide in that god-awful dress, no, she hadn't pronounced anything over two syllables correctly. The irritated release continued until a hand lashed out across his cheek. Another struck the other side of his face and he joined what obviously was a trend and hit Gibbs. His first mate shrugged and nodded, he'd deserved it.

The tarts walked off together, arm in arm, leaving the pirates to share a very different look. Jack released his crewmate with a nod and Gibbs hurried to catch up with the busty women. Despite his foul mood, Jack had to smirk when he heard the man ask about sea turtles before he got out of earshot.

He turned back to the dingy and weighed his options. The crew had at least stocked the tiny boat before leaving him stranded, yet again, so he could take chase. Since there was no way he was letting the Pearl slip away, after all he'd done to get her back, Jack untied the miniature ship and shoved off.

When the Pearl disappeared from sight (they did have bigger sails), Jack pulled out his compass to help lead the way.

-------

Will wasn't entirely sure what time it was when he crawled out of bed. His body ached from the previous night's activities and it complained loudly as he got to his feet.

"I should NOT have let him convince me that a fifth time wouldn't hurt anything…" he moaned softly in the quiet.

It seemed like every muscled had strained far beyond its normal work load, and Will was in good shape. He wondered vaguely how Jack seemed so unfazed by all of it.

Gingerly, he got dressed. He didn't bother with his sword or gun, since he didn't think he could wield them effectively anyway, but slipped on his breeches and a relatively clean shirt. It could only be considered relatively clean because NO pirate or sailor every kept track of how long he wore something. It wasn't like there was a good way to do laundry at sea.

Last, Will slipped on his boots and wandered out on deck. A crewman was at his side immediately, giving him updates. Most of it involved finishing repairs and the Dutchman being seaworthy again, but it was the last little bit that made Will pause, and the fact that there was an unfamiliar ship anchored very near his own.

"Repeat that last part."

"Someone from the Bloody Maiden," he motioned at the ship next to them, "is asking to board our ship. She keeps saying she's your wife."

Will blanched slightly. The idea was for her to return to Port Royal and take over her father's estate, but apparently, Elizabeth had other plans. She'd never exactly been one to listen to other people's ideas… or give up easily.

"Allow her to board."

It only took a few minutes to get Mrs. Turner ferried across the distance between ships, and then the Bloody Maiden weighed anchor and turned back towards Shipwreck Island. Will tried to straighten himself up a little, so he didn't look quite so… well fucked. He prayed to any god who would listen that it didn't show on his face.

The man who Will had, tentatively, determined to be Herrick helped Elizabeth over the side of the boat. She was still wearing her adopted Asian style outfit, even though she'd made a few changes to it. Tucked under her arm was the black chest. Will wasn't sure whether to be grateful that she hadn't left it in Shipwreck Cove, or nervous that she'd brought it with her. If Jack were to come on board while she had that thing with her… Will could only imagine the carnage that would ensue.

"Will!" Elizabeth exclaimed with a warm smile, she acted as though she hadn't seen him just a day ago.

The pirate Captain was about to question her motives for returning to his ship, but she raced across the deck and tossed one arm around his shoulders before he could say much of anything. The force from the mildly violent hug nearly bowled Will off his feet. He winced behind her back and tried to hold on.

"Elizabeth… I wasn't expecting to see you!" Will exclaimed in a tone that attempted to be surprised, but verged on confusion.

"Well, I was thinking that, if anyone should take me back to Port Royal, it should be you. It could be sort of like our final voyage together."

Will's guts took a twist. It really wasn't such a problem, Jack had started the voyage for the 'Agua de Vida' and they didn't plan on meeting up for several months. He could take Elizabeth back without missing any of his responsibilities on the other side, but somehow, for some reason, Will felt that it was a bad idea.

But… what was he going to do? He was going to allow her on the ship and turn towards Port Royal. On occasion, he felt like a pushover.

Elizabeth pulled away and kissed him firmly on the lips before he could stop her. There wasn't a whole lot he could say to defend the 'no kissing' rule that he'd established, since Elizabeth was now known as Mrs. Turner she wouldn't think twice about laying her lips on his. At least Jack wasn't on board.

"Well, then I suppose we'll head south and…"

"What's that?"

Will paused and tried to follow his wife's line of sight. When he couldn't figure out what she was staring at, he asked, "What's what?"

Elizabeth touched the rather nasty hickey that had taken up residence on his collarbone and replied, "That."

A healthy flush spread over Will's face, but he muttered something about a loose line giving him a good wallop. Mrs. Turner could only raise an eyebrow at the highly 'convincing' explanation. She knew exactly what it was from. In fact, she had more than a good idea of who had spent the time making it. Instead of informing Will of her suspicions, she made an over exaggerated 'oh' gesture and let him go.

Feigning a light curiosity, Elizabeth turned to examine the Flying Dutchman for the first time since Jones had died. The ship had changed a good deal. It seemed cleaner, less cluttered than it was before, but it was probably due to the absence of encrusted sea life. All of the barnacles and strange coral had sloughed off of the boat's surface since Will had taken control. It was a fresh start for both crew, as well as ship.

"It looks better, the ship I mean," Elizabeth commented smoothly, keeping her fury well under control.

If she brought things up with Will, it would only cause more trouble. To fix things, she would have to go straight to the source of the problem. Jack was the one who led William away from her to begin with and he would be the one that would have to release him. If killing him didn't work, then confronting him directly might inspire change… or she'd just have to go for his throat again. It wouldn't be long before he appeared on Will's boat, Elizabeth could wait.

"Well, I'll have someone get a cabin ready for you."

Unwilling to be pushed out of the way, Mrs. Turner came back very quickly with a different plan, "Why don't I just stay with you? We are married now Will, we may as well."

Yes, it seemed like a very bad idea indeed, if only Will could put his finger on why.

--------

Jack turned his rum bottle on its end, savoring the single syrupy drop that fell from the glass jug.

"Well, now this voyage has really gone to shit," the pirate huffed and tossed the empty bottle into the back of his dingy. Two days had passed since he'd taken off after his ship, and he felt he was making very good time. However, the last of his rum was gone and that was never a good sign for any pirate's journey.

He unrolled the ancient map he'd taken from the Pearl and examined it for the third, or maybe forth, time. With the way it was set up, there was no good way to judge the distance to the Fountain of Youth. The spinning cryptogram gave him a very good idea of which direction to go, but not how far he would travel. He would head straight towards the Fountain, but it was quite possible that the dingy wouldn't make the journey. Not to mention his horrid lack of supplies.

Jack leaned heavily against the mast and opened his compass. The needle swung faithfully in the direction he was headed. He snapped the black case shut and ran his thumb over the faded silver design on the box's edge. The quirky tool was the very reason he'd decided to woo a haughty blacksmith that he now couldn't get enough of.

_It shows you your heart's greatest desires._

He clearly remembered his mother's words as she'd handed him the compass for the first time. As far back as he could recall, she'd worn the instrument on a strap around her belt, but had never really told him what it was for.

Captain Sparrow turned the small device over in his hands. His father had been furious when he found out she'd given it to Jack. The pirate understood now why he had wanted it, but it had been his mother's to bestow upon who she wished.

_Do not let your father have it, you have to promise me that Jack._

Direct blood, that's what he found out later. The device had been in his family for generations. Though no one was sure where it had come from any longer, it had only ever been passed from one blood relative to the next. His father, the infamous pirate that he was, couldn't resist the draw of an object that could point towards any treasure imaginable. He'd married the obsidian eyed woman in hopes that he would come into possession of the compass. But, he hadn't been counting on one thing: a child. Jack had been first pick to inherit the heirloom, so the great pirate had lost out to a mere boy.

_It will always point to what your heart wants most. Sometimes, you can fool yourself, but you can never trick this compass. It will always know your desires better then you know them yourself._

They'd been on the beach; Jack could remember her long, wavy locks blowing in a vigorous sea wind. It was the last time he'd ever see her. That very same day, he stow away aboard a massive pirate ship that had been anchored in the harbor. He never returned to the tiny port.

As he got older, the compass helped him become one of the greatest pirates that the Caribbean had ever seen. He found more treasure by the time he was twenty than some pirates uncovered in their entire lifetime. He became Captain on the very ship he stowed away on as a boy, the Black Pearl, and led her to many victories. Before he even entered his prime, he became one of the eight Pirate Lords of the high seas.

So when the compass swung its needle towards the curly haired whelp with high spirits and a good sword arm, Jack didn't argue with it. William was not the first man he'd been interested in and it only took a few weeks of careful persuasion to get the lad in his bed. Although, when Jack made an advance that was too strong, he thought he'd lost the game.

He'd trapped the boy briefly and given him a kiss that was worthy of the record books, if Jack did say so himself. Will had been extremely receptive, but pushed away rather violently when he realized what was going on. The boy had been flustered enough to punch him, so Jack assumed that things had just gone sour.

While the compass shows the holder his greatest desires, it speaks nothing of the wants of what it points at. Jack's jaw had still been aching when the whelp came back to him, however, and Will started their second kiss, which greatly outlived its predecessor. The lip-lock went madly out of control and he had the boy by hook, line, and sinker. Though, his own passion surprised him quite a bit.

Every night following the first, Will's flushing face appeared at the door to his cabin, and Jack got very used to his presence. Before he recognized what was going on, he'd gotten too fond of the whelp to let go. So, Jack decided to get rid of the only competition he had, Elizabeth Swan.

His first, and foremost idea had been to woo her away and hope that Will would decide that he didn't want to be with an unfaithful woman, but that backfired magnificently when she made sure he'd stick around the Pearl to become squid food.

So he was going to need to think up a new plan. Supposedly, Will had convinced her to return to Port Royal, but Jack knew that it would never fly with Miss Swa… Mrs. Turner. The very thought of calling her Mrs. William Turner made his blood boil. Killing her seemed like a lovely option, but the whelp would have a fit.

Before he could think of a good alternative, Jack spotted a small black dot on the northern horizon (precisely the direction he was headed). He jumped to his feet and pulled out his scope to check things out a little more closely. The ship was too far away to identify, but it had dark sails and seemed a very likely candidate to be a pirate ship.

Even if it wasn't the Pearl, he could get on board and haggle his way into earning passage. He knew almost every pirate Captain on the high seas, so hopefully it was one that he was on good terms with. If it was his Pearl, he was just going to climb on board and shoot that bastard, Barbossa.

Jack made a few minor adjustments to keep his heading steady and sat back to wait. After a few minutes time, he could positively identify the dark speck as a pirate ship. But, it only took him a little longer to realize that it wasn't HIS pirate ship, and only a moment more to determine who it belonged to.

The ship he was approaching was a very good news, bad news kind of deal. On the good note, he knew the ship's Captain extremely well and would have no problem getting on board. The dark side of the situation was that the ship's presence meant that he was headed in the wrong direction.

As Jack finished his approach, someone tossed him a line and the crew on board got to work hoisting the dingy. Not wanting to wait, the pirate climbed the rope they'd thrown him. It only took him a split second to locate the ship's Captain, steering at the helm, and Jack vaulted up the staircase to greet him.

"You make things very difficult, mate," Sparrow accused firmly, with a pointed finger to punctuate his comment.

William's eyebrows raced for his hairline at the statement. "I make things difficult? When have I ever done that?" he replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Before Jack could think up a good comeback, he noticed a slender figure that looked disturbingly familiar. His first instinct was to ask Will why the tart was on board the Flying Dutchman, but he bit his tongue and greeted the girl instead, "Elizabeth." The name slid through his mouth like some foul-tasting thing.

She smiled, but it was an icy smirk that reminded Will of the artic they'd had to cross to save Jack. "Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth returned sharply. "What does my husband make so difficult? As far as I know, he'd done nothing but help you at his own expense."

"Besides trying to take me ship, like everyone else."

"I'm sure you had your hand in that somewhere."

Jack and Elizabeth began going at each other with one verbal strike after another. Will hooked a rope over a spoke on the wheel and turned away from his post to watch. It was like a well coordinated sword battle. Neither raised their voice above the level of their greeting, but each blow was lower than the next.

William decided to leave them to it. It would only be a matter of time before one of them dragged him in as leverage, and he really didn't want blood to be spilt on his new boat so soon. The bad feeling was no longer questionable. If he didn't separate them quickly, they were going to tear each other apart, but he had no intention of doing that alone. Captain Turner trotted down onto the main deck to find one of his biggest crewmen.

While he assumed the pair was oblivious to his absence, their conversation morphed drastically as soon as he was out of earshot. The senseless insults ceased and more serious topics surfaced.

Elizabeth turned her gaze to Jack's unruly mane of hair. Braided into the right side of his dreadlocks was a twin-headed key that she hadn't seen since Davy's death.

"He gave it to YOU?" she hissed angrily, looking very much like a cat someone had tossed a bucket of water on.

Jack grinned smugly and fingered the piece of metal. "Well, ye didn't think he would give it to you, did ye?"

She calmed quickly. "He did give me what was most important Jack. Don't forget that," Elizabeth said.

She couldn't let the pirate get to her. He manipulated people into doing exactly what he wanted. It was the unobtrusive, and seemingly innocent way he did it that threw so many people off his trail, but Elizabeth knew better than that. She'd dealt with Jack Sparrow long enough to know his tricks of the trade.

"By the way, where is that treasure chest you were holdin' for me?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at his nonchalant words, but held up her masked expression. "Somewhere safe," Mrs. Turner returned, crossing her slender arms over her chest. "It's always been mine, Jack, he said it himself."

The pirate snorted and went to the wheel. He took some mild interest in their heading until she'd finished talking. "It used to be yours, tart. It used to be yours… but like all things precious, it can be stolen," he declared with a smile and turned to face her. He continued in a mildly drunken slur (whether it was real or imitated, Elizabeth couldn't determine), "Ye are a pirate now Mrs. Turner, not even just a pirate, but the Pirate King, no less, so you of all people should understand that. But ye were so certain of yer ownership of his heart that you didn't even notice I'd taken it, until you caught us doing the horizontal tango against the wall."

"You were against the wall, wouldn't that mean you were vertical?"

Jack paused with his mouth partially open to think about that. "But the vertical tango is a dance…"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes skyward. Everyone always claimed that the legend called Jack was really quite brilliant, but she wondered perhaps if they were referring to someone else. "Well, it doesn't really matter. I know that you're just a short-lived adventure, because he's married to me and doesn't exactly seem inclined to give up his husbandly rights. Face it Sparrow, I will win this little clash and you'll be sent off to wallow in self pity as time catches up with you and you become and old man with no past, no future, and nothing to your name but a dingy."

"But what do ye think time will do to you, mate? At least I won't have saggy breasts."

"It won't matter what I'll look like, because I'll have Will and all you'll have is an empty bottle of rum," she snapped.

Jack fell silent. He'd been insulted on plenty of occasions, but, somehow, her words had cut him deeper than they should have. He stepped back to examine the wound and realized that it hurt because he was terrified that she might be right. What if Will did choose her?

Rather than give her the satisfaction of a weak response, Jack shot her a wrathful look and walked away. "Awfully defensive of something that isn't there," he muttered. She didn't hear the second attack on her breasts, but at least it made him feel a little better.

Jack's stroll across the ship lacked its usual swagger since he wasn't really in the mood for a casual saunter. He grabbed William's arm in passing and dragged him away from a conversation about possibly putting someone in the brig. Jack didn't hear who and didn't honestly care.

Will gave only minor protest as he was hauled down into the cargo hold. Jack maneuvered them into the back of the hold, around barrels and crates, and spun Will to face him.

"Why did you bring us down here?" was Captain Turner's first question.

Jack didn't answer him; instead, he posed his own inquiry, "Did you sleep with the tart?"

The question caught William completely off-guard. "She is my wife Jack… How did you know about that anyway?"

Jack lost his focus and started examining the crates around them. He shoved one aside so he could get at its neighbor. Whatever was written on the side of the box brought a smile to Jack's face as he pried it open.

Will tilted his head to the side so he could get a good look at what his lover was getting into, and asked him again, "How did you know about that?"

The pirate pulled out a fresh bottle of rum, muttering as he examined it, "Husbandly duties."

"What?"

Jack glanced over as he yanked the cork out of his new friend and seemed to remember the argument he was involved in. "Why did you sleep with the tart?"

Deciding to take a page out of Sparrow's book, Will's only reply was, "Pirate," since the marriage excuse wasn't getting him anywhere.

Jack narrowed his eyes and a silence feel between them. The soft creak and moan of the ship filled the space. The seas were getting rough with an oncoming storm, and the loose lid was pitched off the open crate of rum. The whole ship seemed to hold it's breath in the aftermath of the loud clatter.

Will started to prepare an apology, but Jack beat him to the punch.

"That's my line."

The younger man bit back a nervous laugh. At least he wasn't really angry… William flopped down on an available barrel and mentioned, "You sleep with girls in Tortuga all the time."

"That's not the same thing."

Will ran his long fingers through his hair with a sigh. "What the hell's the difference then?"

Jack took a long swig out of the rum bottle. He's been relatively sober for a few hours and it was a very strange feeling. The sugary alcohol was a welcome relief.

He tried to think of a good response to Will's highly legitimate question, but the only thing he could come up with was that he was horribly jealous and he rarely actually slept with any of the tarts he wrangled up in Tortuga. He felt that telling William that he was the only one he'd been with in a few years, or that he now only ever felt carnal urges when he was in the presence of the whelp, just didn't seem like the thing to do. For whatever reason, Jack couldn't let those words fall from his mouth. He'd never said something like that to ANYONE. He was a pirate and wasn't permitted such emotion. Pirates were ruthless and unlovable… right?

"You want to know why it's not the same? I just pay for the milk; you bought the whole damn cow, savvy whelp?"

Will arched an eyebrow. Not sure what to say to that, he changed subjects, "Where's the Pearl Jack? I noticed that you just arrived in a dingy, instead of rowing your dingy from your ship to mine, or from land to my ship, or…"

"Smart ass."

Will grinned and returned, "You taught me everything I know."

Jack set the bottle down, his kohl-rimmed eyes softening slightly. The urge to drink dimmed in light of the urge to tangle his hands in William's hair and plunder the boy's mouth until he was satisfied. Not that he'd ever be satisfied. He was not going to lose his treasure to the Pirate King; she could go find some new boy to settle down with. The one sitting before him with a tainted angel's smile was Jack's, and, if he had anything to do with it, no one would ever be able to say that they stole William's heart from Captain Jack Sparrow.

The tart was NOT keeping that box.

Will's grin faded slightly when he couldn't peg the expression on his lover's face. It was a look the man had never donned before: almost nostalgic, in a way, but partly admiring with just traces of lust. Will had seen it before, but not on Jack. It reminded him of an expression that Elizabeth sometimes gave him. On her, he'd always assumed it was love.

Jack crossed the hold in two steps, while William was busy thinking, and grabbed a handful of the whelp's shirt.

A confused, "Jack?" fell from Will's lips before the pirate's mouth descended on his, and then he forgot was he was going to say. Thoughts slithered out of his mind like so many shadows trying to escape from the light. It didn't worry him, however, as they didn't seem important anymore.

Will parted his lips to welcome the invasion of his lover's tongue. The man tasted like his favorite drink, a flavor Captain Turner was getting quite fond of. Following the gentle tug Jack gave to his shirt; Will rose to his feet and let his lover maneuver him where he wanted him, without breaking their lip-lock.

Jack sat down (probably on a crate, but Will wasn't really paying attention) and silently encouraged the younger man to straddle his hips. William gladly did so, leaning heavily into his lover's touch.

"Hn," was all Will managed when Jack slid his hands down the boy's back.

Not far from the two men, an eavesdropper seethed with anger on the stairwell. She stood from her hiding place and slipped back to the main floor of the ship, cursing Jack as she went.

---------

Elizabeth was waiting when Jack and Will emerged from the hold. Upon seeing her, William blushed profusely and tried to smooth everything, from his shirt to his hair. None of it did any good, but she made no comment.

"I know it's a bit late notice, but I think we need to return to Shipwreck Cove," she stated matter-of-factly.

Jack, who had no outwards signs of the session he'd just had with Will, smiled and swaggered towards her, "And why do we need to be doing that?"

"As Pirate King, I have a matter to discuss with the Brethren Court. They need to be informed of my retirement from the position as their head."

Captain Sparrow didn't trust Elizabeth any more than he trusted Barbossa and the whole thing just smelled of rotten eggs. He was not very well liked at the Courts (mostly because of the making Elizabeth Pirate King episode), and he really did not want to go back there any time soon. The tart had something up her sleeve, and Jack was certain it was a viper meant for him.

----------

TBC...

Let me know what you think so far. Constructive criticism is vital to my growth as a writer, so if you have something to say, please speak up! I love to get responses about my work. And, yet again, I'm in need of a Beta reader who has good grammar/spelling skills! HELP ME!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Slimy, Dead People

Onward and upward… Forgive any mistakes you find, I still have no Beta reader. I'll be making edits as I find them.

----------------

It took the Flying Dutchman almost three days to reach Shipwreck Cove, but the small harbor was still teaming with life. It seemed as though none of the pirate ships had departed the area, despite the fact that the battle against the East India Company had been won nearly a week before.

The strangely constructed port was lit brilliantly from within and there were bodies everywhere the eye could see. The harbor had become a second Tortuga.

Jack, Will, and Elizabeth gazed out at the scene from the deck of William's ship.

"They'll be like this for weeks… they always are when they've had any kind of victory," Jack mentioned offhandedly. His crew would be there too, if they hadn't run off with the Pearl yet again. "Well, off you go lass."

Elizabeth gave Jack a sidelong look, and all but hissed at him, "You have to come with me."

Perhaps she wasn't hiding a viper, maybe she'd become one. "Why do I need to be there, I already know yer retiring," the pirate questioned. Not only did he not want to go, but he also knew that she would leave the chest on board the ship for safe-keeping. It would present a lovely opportunity to snatch it.

"You're part of the Brethren Court. You have to be there for the Court to convene officially."

Jack turned to the whelp for backup, but he tossed his chips in with Elizabeth.

"I have things I need to do Jack, it would be best if you went with her."

Jack glowered at him with the most intense force he could muster, but Will seemed unaffected. "Traitor," he growled under his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a cocky smirk pass over Elizabeth's features. She was far too pleased with herself for Jack's liking. She may have won a small battle, but Jack was bound and determined to win the war.

"Fine, I'll escort ye to the Courts," the pirate admitted defeat. Will was SO going to pay…

They took Jack's dinghy to the docks, but Elizabeth refused to row. Sparrow spent the short trip going back and forth through the sailor's alphabet and trying to decide which word suited her best. She, however, used her time being incredibly smug and informing him of all the reasons William would choose her over him.

"…I'm far better-looking than you are, oh, and not to mention the fact that I'm a GIRL!"

Jack was going to put a bullet in her head, or put one in his own. Either way, he wouldn't have to listen to her incessant babbling anymore.

When they reached the dock, Jack got out and tied his boat loosely. He stepped out of the way as a drunkard, or possibly a dead man, fell towards him, and said with some derision, "Tart, you really need to stop this. I've told ye at least a dozen times, it'll never work out between us, so ye need to stop tossing yourself at me feet. It's degradin' for ye and embarrassin' for me."

The look of shock and contempt on her face was more than enough to make the comment worthwhile. She reigned herself in quickly and the look was hidden behind a simple scowl, but Jack had caught it.

"Jack Sparrow…"

"Captain."

"Not right now, you're not. Jack, no matter how strange the situation or unlikely the circumstance, I would never, NEVER grovel at your feet for attention. I would sooner look for company with a pig; at least it would smell better."

Jack flashed a grin laced with ivory and gold, and pressed, "Hit a nerve then did I lass?"

Elizabeth 'hmph'-ed and proceeded to ignore him. She made a point to walk a few steps in front of him, head held high and temper dangerously out of control. A drunk pirate let out an extremely boorish cat-call as she passed and Elizabeth stopped to stick him with a glare that could melt metal.

Not bothering to look over her shoulder, Elizabeth addressed Jack, "And where would we find your court so that we might speak with them?"

She got no answer.

Elizabeth whirled to chew Sparrow out for his lacking attention, but he was nowhere in sight.

"JACK!!"

Mrs. Turner's furious yell rose over the din of the pirate celebration to ring across the open water. It even fell on the ears it was meant for, as Jack rowed back to Will's ship. "I'm not going to just stand and wait for ye to shoot me girl. I'm smarter than that," Jack commented. He wasn't willing to see what idea she had ready for him, so he figured that a good alternative would be to return to William and wait things out. The whelp was just setting sail when he climbed aboard. Not wasting any time, Jack started a sweep for Will's treasure chest.

The crew bustled about; following their Captain's barked orders. The stowaway pirate avoided them at all costs. It was quite possible that Will would be a little pissed that he snuck back on board… or he would make him quit his search for the chest. Neither option was a good one, so Jack ducked behind cannons, crates, and tables whenever a crewman came near.

He attempted to think like the tart might, checking tiny hideaways and blocked off crawlspaces. There were far too many places to put such a small object and too little time to examine them all.

For the time being, he shied away form searching the forecastle. He rather doubted that Elizabeth would hide her husband's heart in the crew's quarters and there was a much higher risk of being caught there. Instead, he headed deeper below deck.

He scoured the hold, and even went as far as checking the bilge, the smell of the stagnant seawater making his nose wrinkle, but he came up with nothing.

"Where in all the hells…" Jack grumbled as he retied the cargo lines he'd disrupted in his search. He was at a bit of a loss. There was a possibility that she'd left it in William's quarters, but that was another place he'd rather save until last. He was doubtful that Will would want to listen to something that would never be part of him again anyway.

Defeated, the pirate started his slow journey back to the stairwell. He dragged his feet intentionally, hoping for some epiphany that would lead him to the treasure.

Using his compass crossed his mind, but it was likely that it would just point to the whelp. That was all it seemed to point at anymore. Well, the boy and rum…

The thought of a good drink stopped Jack's feet quicker than a gunshot would. He executed a swift turnabout and went back to the hold, making a beeline for the crate he knew had more than a few bottles in it. He relieved Will and his crew of some of their drink, settling against a bulkhead to enjoy it.

Jack was through his third swallow when his ears caught a familiar sound. He lowered his bottle and strained to catch it again. The slow, double beat drifted through the underbelly of the ship, pushing Jack to his feet.

"She did put the thump-thump down here!"

He darted in the direction of the sound, pausing only to listen for reference. The technique brought him to the door of the prison. Jack hesitated with his hand resting on the bars, not sure how his instinct could be right. Elizabeth wouldn't go as far as to hide the chest in the holding cell… would she? It was true that no pirate ship took many prisoners, but it was an absurd idea to stash important treasure in the jail.

Jack pushed the door open, which someone had fixed since he'd escaped under Davy's watch, and stepped into the tiny room. The heartbeat was decidedly louder, but there weren't many places for the box to be stashed. Jack crouched and peered under the bench (the lone piece of furniture in the cell). Tucked in the dark corner, hidden under a stained scrap of cloth, was the treasure chest of William Turner.

"There ye are," Jack almost cooed at the prized chest. He pulled it out from its hiding place and tucked it beneath his arm. "Tart thought she could keep it from me, ha!" The pirate chuckled to himself all the way back to the main deck.

After the first crewman that spotted him jerked to a grinding halt and stared at him, Jack began to suspect that something was wrong. He raised an eyebrow at the gawking seaman and snapped at him, "What?" The man didn't answer him before Jack sauntered off. Sparrow wondered if maybe the crewman was suffering from some kind of illness, but then he ran into another sailor with much of the same results.

The second broke through his shock with a stuttered, "Mr… Mr. Sparrow…s…sir, what are ye doin' here?"

"What's wrong with the lot of ye? Is William doin' somethin' I wouldn't approve of?" Jack asked sharply and pushed past the brawny man. He didn't make it much further before the entire crew of the Flying Dutchman was looking at him. "Am I really missin' somethin' here?"

He looked up to Will to get some kind of an answer, but, when the boy noticed him, he moved away from the helm with the same dumbfounded expression.

"Jack?! What the hell are you doing here?!" he yelped as he trotted down from the quarterdeck.

"Why does everyone have their knickers in a twist? I lost the tart and snuck back on…" Jack paused, his brows knit together, "When did it get dark outside?" He looked at the sheer level of worry on the whelp's face and started putting things together. "We're on the other side, aren't we?"

"Yes Jack," Will whispered.

Bootstrap Bill came forward, "You're a damn fool Jack! No living mortal man was meant to see the other side, let alone set foot in it twice. Who knows what it'll do to you?"

Jack didn't understand what the problem was. He'd been to the locker and back already with no trouble, so what would make his second trip any different? Although, he had seen multiples of himself for days afterwards.

"I don't feel any different," Jack admitted simply.

Will echoed the words of Barbossa the first time they'd crossed over, "'It's not getting there that's the problem, it's getting back.' You might not be able to go back to the other side at all. What if you're stuck here?"

"Then you'll have to come visit me, mate," he said with a smile, easily making light of what everyone was so worried about. Jack understood his lover's concern, after all, he REALLY didn't want to stay in the hell that was the Locker, but he didn't think he could be kept in this place.

Jack took note of how quickly the heart tucked under his arm was beating. It was almost sweet how worried William was. He'd have to pin the boy against the wall and show him that he wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Almost as soon as Jack thought about the box, Will noticed that he had it, "I take it that's the reason you came back onboard?"

Jack shifted the chest so he could hold it in both hands. "Well… it is my treasure after all, and she did leave it here…" he ventured, earning a raised eyebrow from the lad. "If it came down to an actual fight, I would win."

Will put his hand on his lover's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze, "I don't know Jack, she's very tough." He left it at that. He could worry endlessly about Jack being claimed by the Locker, but it wouldn't change anything. Whatever fate chose to do was not up to him.

It took Jack a half a second to realize was the increasingly cocky youth had said. "You don't honestly think she could beat me, do ye? William, you don't really think that."

Will smiled to himself and let Jack fret. He turned to his crew and shouted, "Get everything ready and prepare the bell."

Captain Sparrow took a place behind Will and continued to grumble, while several of Will's larger crewmen went below. The rest bustled about, moving things out of the way and setting up what appeared to be a large, wooden arch. They secured the posts into covered holes on the deck, hammering them into place.

Jack set the treasure chest near the helm and leaned on the railing of the quarterdeck. "What are they doin' whelp?"

Will turned his eyes away from the horizon, where a heavy fog was gathering, and returned, "They're erecting the Spirit's Call. It's the bell that draws the souls to the ship so we can ferry them to the other side."

Jack whipped his head around, "Wait, I thought we were already on the other side."

"No. We're at the midway, the halfway point between Earth and the final resting place of souls. That's why this was Davy's job, he had to keep souls from lying stagnant in this place. After staying here long enough, a soul will actually corrode into nothingness and be lost forever. The bell hums when there are enough souls waiting to be ferried across, I'm sure that's why Davy had it stashed away."

"That's interestin'."

The men who'd disappeared below deck returned with a brass bell easily the size of a figurehead hoisted on their shoulders. One sailor followed behind them, carefully keeping the clapper still. They lugged the giant hunk of metal to the wooden supports and affixed it with a heavy chain. Once it was steady, the pirates moved away.

Bootstrap examined the work and nodded at his Captain, "It's ready sir."

The fog hit the ship then, curling around the hull and climbing up over the sides. It was almost a living being as it dodged around the masts and danced on the silent cannons.

"Cover your ears," Will told Jack firmly, but, being a man that had to argue everything, the pirate didn't comply.

"Why?"

"Jack, cover your ears."

The bell swung of its own accord, letting loose a deep sound that was a force in and of itself. A wave spread out around it, pushing the fog away in a massive burst and coursing through the water. The energy shook the pirates to their very bones, but only one felt the true effects.

Jack would have screamed, had he any use of his throat. An invisible hand had taken hold of something deep inside and was wrenching it free. Whatever it was, it was not ready to leave and what proceeded was an imperceptible tug-of-war. Pain tore through his very core and his awareness of things around him narrowed and darkened. Through the cotton barrier of his senses, he felt something strike him, but it was hardly noticeable.

"Jack! JACK!" Will screamed when his companion collapsed.

The boy dropped to his knees next to the fallen pirate and lifted his upper body off the deck. Jack's obsidian eyes rolled so far back in his head that all that was visible were the whites, but they were twitching slightly, like he was trying to battle against the force that knocked him flat.

Will leaned closer and placed his hand on the other man's chest, "Jack, come back to me."

Several of his sailors came up to see what the fuss was about, but none knew how to react. Jones had come to the other side to collect souls so infrequently that they knew very little about the bell or what it did. It called the floating souls to the Dutchman and seemed to have a life all its own, but no pirate on Davy's ship had ever seen it more than once or twice.

Lights appeared on the horizon while the crew was occupied, a small fleet of tiny ships heading their direction. Beneath the waters, souls writhed and stirred in preparation to board, but they had to wait. The passengers in lit boats would board the Dutchman first, and, if there was any room remaining, the spirits in the deep would get a chance to cross over. It was the way things had always been. If one who lived an untainted life died at sea, then they had a lit path in the midway, but if they led a dire existence, then they could do nothing but float with the tides.

Unaware of the approaching spirits, Will gently caressed the pirate's face, not sure of what else to do.

"The bell is calling his soul, just as it calls all the others," Bootstrap offered softly. "He just wasn't meant to hear it."

Men were lost all the time; Bill understood that better than anyone. It worried him that his son would take every loss so hard. A good man claimed by misfortune was to be mourned with a cheer and strong liquor, not weeping. If a Captain grieved over every man who didn't return from battle, he'd go mad.

Bill knew that Jack and his son were very close, because Jack didn't befriend anyone lightly. The man was as suspicious as one can get, but it was expected after his second or third mutiny. There weren't many Jack trusted, so for William to be one of them, it meant they were tighter than the seams of the hull.

Since his Captain was currently incapable of making a command, Bootstrap turned to yell at the dormant crew, "Get back to work you dogs!" They shuffled off quickly.

On the main deck, the first few souls had arrived and were standing silently. A soul wasn't much unlike the body it had once inhabited. They were usually dressed in what they had died in and had no outward signs of how they'd been killed, but it was their faces that gave them away. All of their faces were slack, completely devoid of any emotion or expression. Those who had boarded held their lanterns in front of them as though they were trying to see into some kind of impenetrable darkness.

Then the rest of them started pouring out of the lower decks. The souls that came through underbelly of the ship were ghastly, and easily distinguishable from those who rode in on boats. The ghouls who moved with the tides were stark white, like the ocean had sucked all the color from them. They had the same blank expressions as the pure souls, but their eyes were as pale as their skin and clothes, and their flesh was rotting off the bone.

Bill shivered involuntarily as the second set of beings filled in the space. Even with all the things he'd seen in his life, he would never get used to the leftovers of the sea. He turned back to his Captain and son and froze at what he saw. William was bent over the body of his fallen comrade, but he wasn't praying for the pirate, which is what he'd thought he was doing at first, the boy was kissing Jack fully on the mouth.

The realization hit Bill hard. Jack wasn't just close to his son, they were lovers. It wasn't unheard of on open water, with few to no women available to the average pirate, but he'd met William's wife. He'd been so sure that Will would chose the lovely young woman over the ocean and over his father, but apparently the sea had more than one draw for the lad.

Bootstrap left his Captain to mourn the loss that was more than just a pirate and friend. If he was grieving for a lover, then Bill couldn't fault him. The first mate crossed the main deck, moving around and through souls, and joined the rest of the crew.

The Flying Dutchman filled quickly with the spirits of those who had passed. They quietly filed into every crevice they could stand in, until there was nowhere left for them to go. When the ship was full to capacity, the Spirit's Call let out a second, monstrous tone and pushed the remaining souls back into the deep.

Will ignored the cursed bell and the damn ghosts. The only thing he wanted to be concerned with was the remaining warmth in his lover's lips. He didn't cry, but a horrendous agony wrenched his chest. It was a moment he didn't miss his heart, because the pain would surely be worse if it still beat in his body. No one would possess his heart now, he would toss the box into the sea and let the beasts of the deep guard it.

Will regretfully withdrew from the kiss, but didn't get far. A strong arm whipped around his neck and jerked him back down into a lip-lock was leaps and bounds away from the one-sided kiss he'd just concluded. Will's eyes few open, but the kohl-lined eyes scant inches from his own were firmly closed.

Jack was alive!

If the man had been faking, William was going to kill him, but, he'd rather kiss him furiously first. He pressed into his lover's hold desperately, needing to feel the other man's heavy-handed touch. Jack parted Will's lips with his tongue and challenged him to a duel. For once in the time Jack had known him, the boy was submissive and allowed him entrance without a fight. The pirate contently took his spoils before releasing the younger man.

"Well, that was pleasant."

Will rested his hand threateningly on the hilt of his sword, "If you were faking all that, Sparrow, I swear…"

"Fakin' what?" the pirate asked, a genuine look of confusion on his face. "You generally have to not be interested to fake a kiss, William. I, however, am always interested in taking what…" Jack puttered to a stop when he realized that they were surrounded by the dead.

Convinced the man had no idea what had just happened to him, Will let go of his sword. He wouldn't have used it on him anyway, but it was a force of habit when he was threatening someone. He tried to determine how the man had come to, but there was only one thing that came to mind. Since it had been unable to pry the soul from Jack's body in the time it took to fill the boat to capacity, the bell had released its hold on him when it rang a second time.

Jack's expression changed to one of mild disgust and fear and he shifted away from the nearest soul. The movement just brought him closer to a different spirit, so he scrambled to his feet and followed Will to the helm, where none seemed to be gathered.

Will chuckled at him, "They're just people, Jack" He couldn't completely dispel the nervousness in his voice from Jack's close call, but the other man didn't notice.

The pirate curled his lip and tried to shoo a ghost out of his general vicinity. "Slimy, dead people," he returned a little absently.

Will changed the Dutchman's heading, to what was loosely known as north in the Locker, and shouted several orders to his crew. They rigged the sails and the ship surged forward with no wind to speak of.

When the initial shock of the ghouls' presence wore off, Will's words came to the forefront of Jack's mind. The whelp hadn't meant the kiss when he'd been asking about him faking. What had happened? William's back was rigid with tension and Jack had no clue as to why. He vaguely remembered Turner telling him to cover his ears, but that was all.

Jack glanced down at the main deck to see the crew disassembling the large arch they'd put up only moments before. The bell was already gone, which was strange. Jack wondered why they would bother to lug the giant hunk of metal out from below if they weren't even going to use it.

Something had happened, and it had upset the whelp enough that he wasn't willing to talk about it. Jack would find out later. He could ask any of the pirates onboard and he was sure someone would disclose the information he wanted. For the time being, he slipped his arms around William's waist and rested his head on the boy's shoulder. The action caused some of the tension to leak out of the young Captain's body, but not much.

At their feet, the heart in the metal chest slowed to a more blasé rhythm.

When it was back at the steady, lethargic pace it normally beat at, Jack asked, "Where are we headed?"

"Towards the point of Ascension."

"Wha'?"

Will rolled his eyes to the starless sky. "It's where we take the souls so they can go to the other side," he explained easily. Captain Turner leaned back against his partner with a content sigh. His world had nearly capsized, but he was thankful that it managed to right itself again. If Jack was gone, Will wouldn't know what to do.

He brushed some of Jack's dreadlocks off his neck, taking the time to run his fingers over the countless trinkets as he felt them. His hand stopped at the tail of one particular lock when it encountered what was tied at the end.

"I can't believe you put this in your hair," Will muttered quietly, as he held up the twin-headed key to examine.

"I only put important things in me hair," Jack admitted with a gold tinged grin.

William let the key drop, "You can't honestly tell me that all of these little beads mean something."

"I can't 'honestly' tell you anything Will, I am a pirate after all, but a majority of them have a story."

More than willing to test Jack's questionable comment, the Dutchman's Captain picked a bauble at random, "What's this one then?"

"That," Jack started, lifting his hair to take a good look at the trinket, "was a glass decoration on the end of an Admiral's sword. I pried it off and put a hole in it."

"And how exactly to you come into custody of an Admiral's sword?"

"Well, he was drunk and I just happened to be passing through while escaping from his jail. I just borrowed it from 'im," Jack claimed with a dismissive hand gesture.

It didn't have the stink of a tall tale, so Will pointed at another, "And this one?"

"That's me lucky dice."

Will chuckled, his lover's blunt explanation not wholly unexpected, "Care to elaborate on that? I can see that it's a dice, Jack."

"Well, I'd wagered a hell of a lot and lost a hell of a lot. Mostly 'cause the guy figured out I was usin' loaded dice, but I won everything back on one last roll."

"And it was that dice?"

"It was."

Will hummed a soft acknowledgement and stopped grilling Jack. He learned something new about the strange man every day. Most people had a few quarks, but he was beginning to doubt if Jack had anything but. It was curiosity that originally drew him to Jack and it was curiosity, and fantastic sex, that made him stay. Jack was an enigma, one that Will hoped to actually solve one day.

A small point of light appeared in the sky, the first and only star they'd seen since entering the Locker. A small, squirrelly pirate they called Clacker shouted its presence, "The Ascension sir!"

"I see it," Will yelled back, adjusting the wheel slightly.

Jack raised an eyebrow and scanned the horizon. All he could see, in any direction, was just more water. "Where?"

Will pointed out towards the bow and a whole lot of nothing, "Its right there."

"There's naught out there but water, William."

"In the sky."

"That's a star."

"Not in the Locker, it's not," the boy said cryptically.

Jack fell silent. It was easy to forget that the rules were different on the other side, where rocks were crabs, the sun could rise in the evening, and the dead floated about until someone came by to pick them up. Not that the dead didn't do that on the side of the living, but there they weren't sitting upright in boats and staring at you from the water.

The point of light traveled slowly across the sky as the Dutchman slid silently along, getting ever closer. When it was almost directly above them, the crew scattered across the ship like ants and tacked up the sails. They coasted to a smooth stop.

"The Pearl didn't do that when it was here. We didn't sail anywhere, we just sat," Jack complained lightly while peering up at the 'Ascension', as everyone seemed to be calling it. It still just looked like a star.

"That's because the Pearl wasn't ever meant to be on this side," Will returned.

Unimpressed, Jack turned his eyes back to the dead souls that still littered the ship. "They're still here."

"Give it a minute."

Almost as soon as the words left Will's lips, every single soul turned its face towards the sky. Those with lanterns held them aloft and the lights inside extinguished. Jack was about to ask what was going on, but William put his hand over Jack's mouth to quiet him.

His question was answered a moment later as the souls who had lanterns began emitting their own light. The glow started out soft, but grew to a radiant brilliance that was hard to look at. Then, as quickly as it had come, the light was gone, as were all the souls.

"That's it, just poof and then your job's done?" Jack asked, quite surprised.

"Yes."

"That's all squid face had to do to keep from getting all… squid-y?"

Will shouted an order at his men before responding. "It's not always this simple. Some days, you have to go back several times to gather all the souls, and they're not always all in the same place," Will said. He hesitated before continuing, "Now, we have to go back."

There was a distinct possibility that Jack wouldn't be able to cross back over. As his father had said, no man was meant to see the other side, let alone twice. The Locker didn't like to release any soul once it had possession of it. But, the longer a soul was in the Locker, the less likely it was to escape. So, it would be better for them to leave quickly than debate about it.

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On the other side, sitting on the end of a dock and fuming, was the Pirate King. She hated Shipwreck City, or Shipwreck Cove, or whatever the hell they called the pirate den. In the time that Will had been gone, she'd been given cat-calls, had her ass grabbed, and finally just shot a bastard who wouldn't give up. There was far too much testosterone in the pirating business for her taste.

Elizabeth had searched for Jack for almost a half and hour, but then realized that his dinghy was missing. She firmly labeled him a coward in her mind. If he couldn't stand up for the punishment she wanted to dish out, then he was hardly a man at all. Although, one could hardly blame him for running, Elizabeth determined that she'd been a bit too obvious with her revenge. But, no matter, Jack and Will would return, because her husband would not leave her in this place, and then she'd call Jack in front of the Courts.

She'd already gathered the pirate Captains together, so all she needed was the missing duo to return. Not having Barbossa was a problem, since the Pirate Lords seemed unwilling to meet without all of them there, but she'd managed to talk around it. They would not meet with two missing, however, so Jack was a pivotal piece in his own downfall. Without him, she couldn't get things rolling.

Of the edge of Shipwreck Island, in the open ocean, the water began to churn. The Flying Dutchman surfaced, bow first, in a shower of sea-water. The massive brig swayed on the waves it created, settling easily into the ocean.

When it came into the view of the cove's entrance, Elizabeth stood and crossed her arms over her chest. It would take them a minute to get docked, but she would be waiting for them. Now that Jack already knew he was walking into some kind of trouble, Elizabeth had no intention of letting him forget it.

The Dutchman gracefully maneuvered into the narrow opening of the rocky safe haven the pirate's cove was harbored in, before dropping anchor and a single rowboat. Onboard the tiny boat, Jack winced slightly when Elizabeth's severe expression came within view.

"She looks a trite angry," Jack mentioned to Will, who was seated next to him.

"Well, you did say you were going to escort her, then ran off."

He reached over to pat Jack's shoulder. The first thing he'd done upon arriving was check to make sure that Jack was still standing. Much to Will's relief, The Locker had released for the second time, making the pirate either very lucky, or unsusceptible to the other side's influence.

On the other hand, while Will was having a dinghy prepared to go to the docks, Jack had pulled aside one of the whelp's men to find out what had happened while he was out. The answer had not pleased him. It was no wonder the boy had been so worked up.

Jack pushed it out of his head. He had to focus on whatever problem the tart was intent on starting. If he let her have her way, Elizabeth would see him dead before he got the chance to retrieve his Pearl from Barbossa.

Jack hopped out onto the dock next to the 'charming' girl, completely ignoring her attempts to kill him with her eyes. Will stood to follow, but Jack stopped him, "Wait a minute mate, I don't think you can come. Jones couldn't go where there wasn't water."

"Oh… right."

Disappointed, Will sat back down. He'd completely forgotten about being connected to the Dutchman. He tried to conjure his silver linings to mind, but none came to him.

The sailor who'd brought them over spoke up, "Actually, that's not quite true." Three sets of eyes turned to him. "Well, sir, you can go wherever there's water under your feet. Shipwreck City is constructed entirely on water, so you shouldn't have any trouble going ashore."

William looked at the brightly lit city skeptically. It did make sense, but, "What if it isn't really built entirely on water? What if there's a sandbar under there somewhere?"

"Then you won't be able to breathe and there's a terrible pain until you get back on or in water."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

It really wouldn't be too much of a problem if he did encounter solid ground, because there were more than a few places he could go that were over water. He joined his wife and lover on the floating docks. "Well, what now?"

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TBC…

So, this chapter was really just to explain what Will does when he disappears to the other side. Sorry there was nothing more than kissing in this chapter, I hope to have a few scenes in the next one. Oh yes, and I just figured out that I was spelling 'dinghy' wrong…

Leave any questions/comments/concerns/praise/rants in a review if you would!


	4. Bullets at the Brethren Court

Sorry this update took a little while (when am I not saying that?) but I went to New York City on vacation and didn't get much done. I'm not going to promise a deadline for the next chapter, because my last few weeks of summer school are coming up and I'll have finals.

If you sent me a review saying that you'd be willing to Beta, please send me an email at duoismine gmail . com (but without spaces) so that I can get in contact with you. As of this moment, this chapter is also unbeta-ed. If you see any glaring mistakes, I would be very grateful if you pointed them out to me. Otherwise, enjoy.

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"We should just shoot ye for keepin' us waitin' Sparrow!" the first pirate who spotted Jack howled.

The man who spoke was Captain Ammand, and Jack rolled his eyes at the blatant accusation. "We've waited on ye more than once, ye Spanish dog," Sparrow snapped back.

The Spaniard sank slowly into his seat with an offended glare, raising a good laugh out of some of the Brethren, a shared scowl from others; while the remainder continued to chat boisterously, ignorant of what was going on.

William leaned in to murmur dangerously close to his ear (an innocent gesture that the whelp probably didn't realize diverted blood to his crotch), "Making plenty of friends, are you?"

Jack snorted, a completely non-committal sound that could be interpreted many ways… only because he didn't actually hear what the boy had said. The room where they held the court's discussions was very loud, and the highly attractive lad was standing far too close to him. All of these things were very distracting, but mostly the body heat of a sinfully adorable man making his skin tingle.

Taking the only option that would keep him from throwing William to the floorboards and fucking him senseless in front of the entire Brethren Court, Jack stepped towards Elizabeth and raised his voice above the quarrelling buccaneers, "They're all yours, Pirate King."

For the first time all evening, Elizabeth lost her unwavering certainty. She had commanded the pirates in battle, that had been easy enough (since a well phrased pep-talk could get a cat to go swimming against its wishes), but she had not been wholly successful in getting them to listen on this level. A little shamefully, she realized that it had taken Jack's help to get their attention the last time she'd stood before them.

Elizabeth started with a standard tactic, clearing her throat very loudly. It was no good. Next, she tried yelling over their petty arguments, but the only one's who heard were standing right behind her, and already listening. Frustrated, the young woman tossed up her hands with a sigh. "They're hopeless."

Elizabeth cast about the room for a more drastic option than yelling. Shooting a gun into the air crossed her mind, but judging from the level of aggression the pirates already had towards each other, it was possible that it would just start an all out brawl.

Her eyes fell on Captain Teague, who was no more part of the din than he ever was. Jack's father was situated off in the corner, tuning a well-worn guitar in a way that was almost loving. He was the keeper of the Code, Elizabeth knew, but he never seemed to take any interest in the Courts beyond that. She could definitely tell which side of the family Jack's looks had derived from.

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, and Elizabeth was almost embarrassed to be caught staring. The soulful-looking man set his instrument aside and got to his feet. Though he said nothing, the room slowly fell into silence as he approached the table. Captain Teague never uttered anything above the low tone one might used at a quiet meal, because he didn't have to. Anything that fell from the man's lips was of up most importance, so the Court was always ready to listen to the infamous Captain.

That, and he'd shoot anyone who'd disobey the code, or ignore him.

Jack shuffled away from the table as his father approached, more than a little wary of the man. He backed until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Will, thankful that his lover had spectacular skill with the sword. Not that he didn't, but it was always good to have backup, especially where his father was concerned.

For the time being, Captain Teague ignored his son, and addressed the Court, "The Code demands that ye listen when our King has somethin' to say. She wishes to speak, so hold your tongues." He left the rest unspoken, _Or I'll cut them out._

Will took in Captain Teague from head to toe, his eyes passing over his tri-corn hat, and the plethora of trinkets braided into his dark hair. The man looked a hell of a lot like Jack, all the way down to the slight swagger Will detected in his walk.

Elizabeth had mentioned meeting Jack's father at the Courts, but she'd neglected to point out that he was also a Pirate Lord. Judging from Sparrow's reaction to his sire's presence, Will suspected that he wouldn't be introduced.

Captain Teague stepped aside and passed the floor to Elizabeth, who gave him a quiet 'thank you', before turning to the attentive court. "Pirate Lords," she began, "you are all well aware that I became King through a vote of the Court." This inspired some grumbling among the Captains, several of them glaring thoroughly at Jack. He'd been the only pirate in the history of the Courts to vote for anyone but himself.

Elizabeth pressed on, "But I wish to retire from the position, and announce the next King."

Her words were followed by a less than pleasant uproar. Everyone had an opinion about her retirement, but they all screamed them at the same time and no single voice could be separated out of the clamor. It took several minutes for them to settle down, and Captain Chevalle managed to be heard, "You are not permitted to name the next King, it must be decided by vote. Check the Code."

Elizabeth almost smirked. It wasn't in the Code, which was precisely why she'd decided to handle the situation as she had. It was a bit of a wager, but she was figuring that no pirate in his right mind would ever give up the control of the Court. It was the same greed that kept the Brethren Court from ever having a king, because no pirate would vote for anyone but himself and it was assumed that the Pirate King would never give up power once he had it.

Captain Teague confirmed her suspicions, "It's not in the Code." Although, he didn't seem entirely pleased with the idea either.

Elizabeth nodded and eyed the seated pirates, challenging them to test her authority. "Then I will name Jack Sparrow as my successor."

A confused murmur flit around the room like a wayward butterfly. Mistress Ching was the first to toss in a loud, "What?"

The word took on a bizarre echo as others repeated it. It fell last from Jack's mouth, who was just as surprised as anyone else at the table. Jack had been expecting a viper, but he wasn't entirely sure of how making him King would play into the tart's plan. It didn't take him long to figure out.

Gentleman Jocard surged to his feet, claiming in his baritone voice, "Then if I kill him, I will become the next King! That isn't in the Code either!"

Before Jack had a chance to react, the massive man had whipped out his pistol and was aiming his shot at the dead center of Sparrow's chest. Not sure what else to do (since there was no one near him that he would consciously use as a human shield), Jack raised his hands and stammered; "I actually think that one IS in the Code, mate." He looked towards his father for help, but got none. "And if it's not, it really aught to be," he finished with an absent wave of his hand.

The gun cracked off its shot, causing Jack to flinch slightly. He felt no pain, which was strange, because getting shot hurt like a bitch. He opened his eyes in time to see Will crumple at his feet. The boy had jumped in front of him without a second thought.

"No!" tore from Elizabeth's throat in a wail.

It wasn't sorrow that flooded Jack, it was rage; a fury so powerful that it coiled through his senses faster than he could fully process his companion's still form. He pulled his own pistol and turned it on Jocard, his eyes cold and calculating. Eight other guns took aim at Jack, four of them were Captains wanting a piece of the pie, and the others were Jocard's men, trying to protect the piece they already had.

The big man had balls enough to laugh at him, "What Jack? Did I kill your pet?"

Jack flicked back the hammer on his pistol. The minute he pulled the trigger, he'd be riddled with holes, but he honestly didn't care. He could take out Jocard and possibly a few others with his sword before he died… if he hadn't left his sword in the globe at the front of the room. They wouldn't be expecting him to go for it, so he could probably get his blade (two if he could hack it), before he took too many bullets. To Hell with the Brethren Court.

His finger tightened on the trigger, but a quiet voice stopped him. "Jack…"

The pirate furrowed his brow, not wanting to take his eyes off the big black man with a gap in his teeth. The voice came again, but it sounded stronger, "Jack."

Movement near his feet finally caught his eye and drew it away from Jocard. William was sitting up on his elbows, smiling at him reassuringly. "I'm alright," he told him softly.

The idea of immortality slowly filtered through the thick blanket of ire that had settled over Jack's mind. The whelp couldn't be killed; he'd made sure of it when he'd nearly lost him the first time. Elizabeth was weeping with relief, but Jack had no sympathy for her. This whole damn thing was her fault.

Jack lowered his gun and held out his hand, which William took gratefully. Despite being immortal, the wound still hurt him something fierce. Jack hauled the boy to his feet, almost scolding him, "Ye remember that 'brave to a fault' thing?"

Will staggered slightly and leaned on Sparrow's shoulder, holding his wound until he realized that it wasn't bleeding. "Yeah, well," was all he could manage in a pained gasp. The sharp agony faded to a dull throb within minutes, but it sparked back up again anytime he moved too quickly.

"Jack, let's go. We've done what we had to here and things are only going to get worse," Will suggested as the Pirate Lords broke into yet another fight.

They hurried out of the broken hull used as the Brethren's gathering place, pulling their swords from the world as they passed. Only one man noticed their hasty departure, and he tailed after them casually.

Jack felt, rather than saw, their follower. Problem was, Will was staggering from the bullet every few feet, and Jack didn't want to release his hold on him. With the hand that wasn't wrapped tightly around Will's waist, Jack retrieved his gun for the second time that day. He didn't get the chance to use it.

"Put that away, boy."

Jack hesitantly did as his father ordered. While he was sure the thought had crossed his old man's mind a time or two, Captain Teague had never actually attempted to kill him. It was unlikely that things would change at this point in time.

William tried to stand up straight, despite the stabbing pain in his chest (the bullet was definitely going to need to come out). Even after he'd made the noticeable effort to steady himself, Jack didn't release him, for which he was silently grateful.

Mrs. Turner stood quietly behind them, apparently humbled for the pain she'd caused her husband. She hadn't even made a comment about Jack hauling Will through the street like some drunken whore, just trailed meekly through their wake.

Captain Teague surveyed his son and the young man pressed against him, venturing after a few moments of careful consideration, "There aren't many who would sacrifice themselves so readily for another."

He left them in a long enough silence that Will was getting ready to work up a response, but the leather-skinned pirate continued, "Ye haven't always been a pirate then boy?"

Will shook his head.

Teague 'humph'-ed thoughtfully and turned his dark eyes back to his son. "If you're smart, boy, you'll keep this one with ye," he said, departing once he'd given out his strangely placed pearl of wisdom.

"Plan to," Jack returned to the man's retreating back. After Captain Teague was out of earshot, he disclosed, "Me father's always been a bit of a strange one," and continued to lug the whelp through the 'streets' of Shipwreck City.

Will laughed, following it up with a wince, and commented, "Well, now I know where you get it from."

His words drew what remotely resembled a smile onto Jack's strained features. Captain Sparrow didn't stress over many things, but the past few hours had been something he wouldn't shake off with a single bottle of rum and a few drunken laughs. He had a very powerful need to reclaim his lover, for William's sake as well as his own. But, first things first, he had to find someone to drag the hunk of lead out of the boy's chest.

Back on the Dutchman, they found a pirate to do just that. The man reminded Jack of a rat with his tapered features and his habit of narrowing his eyes and leaning in as he scrutinized people. Will said his name was Ogilvey and he'd tended Jones when he had too many slugs of lead in him. Somewhere in his life, the pirate had actually had some kind of medical training, but he'd been on the Dutchman a long time and didn't remember much.

He had Will lie down on what was normally a dining table and took out a very long pair of steel pincers. For what seemed like an eternity, Ogilvey dug around in the wound, feeling for the piece of metal. Every twist of the crooked tool he was using urged the boy into a pained squirm that was difficult for Jack to watch. Unable to stand it, Elizabeth fled the room after Will let out his first, muffled yell, but Jack stayed.

A particularly nasty jab somewhere around the region of his lungs caused Will to scrape his boots across the table and curl his hands into fists.

"Shouldn't ye have found it already," Jack growled impatiently at the pirate. He could see why Davy waited until he had multiple slugs in him before he bothered to have them removed, the ache of leaving them in probably wasn't near as bad as having this dolt try and fish them out.

"It's lodged real good on some bone. I'll have it out in a minute, Captain."

Will didn't answer, since he was too busy gritting his teeth to keep from yowling like a wounded hound.

The Rat (as Jack had determined he know him as) jiggled the tool around a bit more, before letting out a satisfied grunt, "'Ere we are."

He withdrew the metal tongs from the wound and dropped the lead slug into Jack's outstretched hand. There was very little blood clinging to the bullet, but what was there stained the cloth wrapped across his palm. Jack rolled it around with his thumb a moment. For William, it was just a momentary pain, but for him, it was a death sentence. If the whelp hadn't gotten in the way, Jack would have joined the ranks of pirates floating in the Locker.

Ogilvey stashed the dirty tool in a leather bundle, which disappeared into his jacket, and shuffled off

Will sat up and tossed his legs over the side of the table. He was fairly certain he had a splinter in his ass, but it was definitely more pleasant than large forceps poking around his organs. "Remind me never to get shot," the young man muttered and rubbed the quickly healing hole.

When Jack didn't respond, Will continued, "I suppose we should go after the Pearl now. You'll be needing her to get to the Fountain and…" He didn't get much further.

Jack stepped forward, between the whelp's spread legs, and crushed their mouths together fiercely. It was a clashing of teeth and bloodying of lips that was fueled by desperation.

Wasting no time, Jack pushed his hand down the front of his young lover's breeches and grabbed hold of his rapidly hardening dick. Will let a feral sound slip from the back of his throat and he bucked helplessly into the pirate's grasp. He barely came to his senses long enough to gasp, "Jack, we're…"

But their mouths crashed together again and the words slipped away like sand. It wasn't a matter of where, or even when they were, it was a need that had to be satisfied. Despite what his eyes told him, Jack had to assure himself that no permanent harm had come to the boy.

He had to run his hands over the lad's warm flesh and feel the eager body writhing against his own. "Now," Jack breathed. "I need ye now."

Will didn't argue with him, because he needed the same. He stripped the buttons off Jack's shirt in his attempts to rid him of it, the fasteners scattering across the floor and table. Jack would complain about it later.

They became thoroughly entangled, legs and arms winding, and hands twisting into anything they could reach. Clothes flew any which direction they chose, over shoulders and heads, to land gracelessly in a wide radius. The pair in the middle wouldn't need to know where they'd gone until the morning.

Jack pulled firmly at Will's member, twisting his hand and allowing his rings to brush along the head and soft underside. Pleasure swept up the whelp's body in maddening riptides, making him lightheaded.

Will leaned forward to settle his face in the crook of Jack's neck. As the pirate continued to work him, he busied himself kissing and nipping the soft skin just below Jack's ear. He let out a growl when his lover hit a particularly sensitive spot and thrust into the questing hand.

Jack chuckled gruffly and released the unsatisfied youth, earning a grumpy whine, but gabbed two handfuls of William's ass and pulled him off the table. The lad kicked off his breeches, which were still clinging to his calves and feet, and wrapped his legs tightly around his lover.

Jack found the boy's mouth again, exploring it with his tongue. He shifted his hold on the squirming youth. Jack had heard stories about people who could perform amazing feats of strength when they were highly stressed or upset, but he was certain that is also applied to people who were aroused. He could barely feel the boy's weight when he knew it rivaled his own, even if just barely.

He, rather roughly, pushed the younger man against the bulkhead of the… grub hall, that was where they were. The Rat had ushered them into the mess hall because there were tables he could lay the Captain out on, but they hadn't left when the primal urges had swept through them. It wouldn't be long before someone walked in to find them humping mindlessly like dogs in heat.

Jack ground their erections together as he processed the problem at hand. He didn't dedicate much of his brain to the issue, but it did stew away in the back of his head. If they'd taken two seconds and crossed the ten feet to the Captain's Quarters, they wouldn't have to be worried about it.

But, they were men and didn't tend to think ahead. They were creatures that lived off of whim and thrived, only regretting their lifestyle when things spiraled out of control.

Jack gathered his thoughts from where they'd dispersed, and suggested, "We… we really aught to go back to yer cabin. If one of yer crew sees…" It was possible that William was lose all respect from his men if someone found them, but they were also bound to follow him. Jack didn't have enough self control to get them both dressed again and usher them to a safer place, but he hoped Will might.

The boy did nothing to help things, whimpering, "I don't care… Ja –ah- Jack, I don't care! I need… I need…" The sentence deteriorated into a moan and Will tossed his head back.

Jack took full advantage of the opening and bit down on the lad's exposed throat, licking and sucking on the taut muscles. He let Will hold himself up with his legs while he dug in the pocket sewn into the inside of his jacket, glad he'd managed to toss it within reach. His fingers brushed against the small glass container he'd stashed there and curled around it.

"Came prepared this time," he said, pulling out the bottle of oil he'd gotten in Tortuga.

He emptied it into his palm and braced the other hand back under the boy's hips. The slick helped, more so than spit, and Jack had three fingers working in and out of his lover's body in no time.

Will yowled as Jack found his sweet spot and assaulted it. Captain Sparrow flashed an ivory and gold smile when the uptight young man fell apart in his hands, losing all sense of modesty and humility. When he felt William was ready, he withdrew his hand from between the boy's legs, allowing his fingers to graze, teasingly on the insides of his thighs.

Will didn't beg, didn't order, didn't do anything but pant and wait patiently for Jack's next move. The pirate's ideas were very much in line with his own, and he quickly slicked his cock in preparation, before sliding into Will's tight body hard and fast.

Jack didn't want to rush, because he didn't want to hurt his companion, but he couldn't hold back either. The need to claim what was his rose over him, like some primal side of him had awoken and wouldn't be sated until it had its mate.

Controlled by his urges, Jack thrust into William a little harder than necessary. The boy winced and gripped his shoulders, but the complete opposite from what Jack had been expecting fell from his mouth, "More!"

The word spurred him on and he began slamming into the eager body clinging to him. Will was balanced on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain, feeling both arc up his sweat-slicked body. The bliss and building climax were euphoric, but the pain grounded him to earth and sea, making the whole experience more tangible.

Satisfaction swam quickly within Will's reach, but as he was getting close enough to touch it, Jack slowed the pace to a crawl. The whelp opened his eyes at the sudden change. His curious peek met with Jack's smoldering stare, neither wavered. Will allowed himself to be consumed by those obsidian eyes, his blood boiling just from the heat of it.

A little impatiently, Will pushed back against his lover's slow, measured thrusts, but strong hands on his hips halted the movement. Will leaned back against the wall, feeling a bit strung out by his unsatisfied desires. He knew better than to touch himself (even if the need was great), because Jack always liked to be the one to give release to him. It would be upsetting to end the show prematurely, not that Captain Sparrow wouldn't get it up again, and again, and again…

From the very first night Will had fallen into this disgraceful act he loved so much, he'd learned that Jack was not a one-time deal. Like with all things he did, Jack had to take sex far beyond what was perceived as normal, or possibly even healthy. He far outdid any expectation of him.

Will was grateful of it on many occasions.

In measure, leisurely strokes, Jack started the achingly slow climb back to their previous pace. While his thrusts were sluggish, they were rough and powerful. Each push in shoved Will up the bulkhead, the uneven wood catching his hair and rubbing his back raw, but it was perfect.

About halfway back to the untamed rate they'd started at, the heavy door to the mess hall swung inward. The untended hinges squealed like dying pigs, or giddy whores, depending on whose ears the sound fell on. Jack's gaze flicked to the door, but he didn't stop. It was too late to stop. William, however, was oblivious and yelled, "More!"

Of all the people that could come in, of all the possible problems that could arise from an unintended interruption, it was Bootstrap Bill that appeared in the opening. He was in the midst of a sentence, "I heard you'd been shot boy, are…" He faltered to a halt, both verbally and physically, and his eyebrows raced for his hairline.

His father's voice dragged him out of his building ecstasy and William noticed the older pirate leaning in the doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. A blush spread from the roots of Will's hair, to the tips of his toes, or at least that's what it felt like.

Bootstrap cleared his throat, "Well, ye seem to be doin' just fine, so I'll leave ye to it." With that, he shut the hatch, but propped himself against it on the outside. It would be best if no one else walked in on a Pirate Lord and his son screwing for all they were worth, especially not the saucy young tart that seemed to have a hell of a temper. Bootstrap pulled out his knife and a wet stone and got busy looking casual.

Back inside, Will was having a difficult time getting over the fact that his FATHER had just strolled in and witnessed him moaning to be fucked, like some girl. He was positively mortified.

Will buried his face against Jack's shoulder, groaning with embarrassment rather than arousal. Despite the terribly weakened mental state Sparrow was in, he could still recognize the difference. He struggled to reign himself back in, but it took a few moments, and several wild thrusts, to do so.

Still buried hilt-deep in his lover, Jack managed to get an iron grip on his urge to pound on and find release. He wound his hand into the curly head of hair resting against his cheek. "Whelp…"

He got no answer.

"Whelp, if he cared, he would 'ave done somethin' about it."

The lad's voice was muffled by Jack's skin and hair when he responded, "I was begging for it like some harlot… no better than a whore, and he saw."

Jack couldn't stop the sigh that slipped out. "Ye remember what I told ye about pirates killing time on a voyage? Some take care of themselves, some screw whatever animals happen to be in the hold, and others screw each other."

"But we're not killing time… we've barely even left port."

"Well…"

Will sat up and met his eyes, "No. It's not the same thing. I think about this all the time, and not with anyone but you. I want you take me when we're in the middle of battle and when we're searching for treasure on land, and I want you to kiss me, and… It's not the same."

"William…" Jack breathed. The lad had never admitted such things before, but, neither had he. Jack began to withdraw from Will's body, but the boy whined slightly, so he slid back in. He resumed his steady thrusting. "It's not the same," he agreed.

Will captured his mouth greedily, biting on Jack's lips. Their tongues dueled briefly before Jack pulled away.

"You're not the only one who feels that way."

Will quirked an eyebrow and gasped as Jack grazed past his sweet spot. "What?"

"I haven't been with anyone except ye for months, savvy whelp?" He slammed into Will's tight body before the boy had a chance to respond, continuing, "For this… to want this all the time… there has to be more to it." Jack was going to blame his newfound honesty on too much blood being in his dick, rather than his brain, but he wasn't so sure that was it. "I've lost plenty of pirates, and seen plenty of men die, but it never hurt until it was ye who was bleedin'."

Damn his twisted, black heart for going out on him now. He loved the boy and there was no arguing it. When the compass had turned to point at the lad, it hadn't been because he wanted to fuck him senseless once and be done with it. It had been because he wanted to keep the lad by his side endlessly. Jack wanted to fight back to back with him, wake up with him curled close, and screw him at least once a day, but it hadn't been a desire that developed until the compass let him know what that dull ache in his chest was. He wanted a companion, a mate, a lover, a paramour; something known by many names, but always acknowledged with a smile and greeted with a kiss.  
Will filled that empty place that rum, lasses, and the Pearl had failed to patch.

"Damn it," Jack ground out as he neared orgasm. Conversation went on hold while they finished what they'd started. Jack wrapped his hand around Will's arousal, stroking it in-time with his thrusts. The younger man gasped and gripped his lover's shoulders. It didn't take long to drag Will over the edge, screaming his release.

A few more driving thrusts and Jack was following after him, but more quietly. They clutched each other until the waves of rapture had passed, and then fell in a sweaty, panting heap at the base of the bulkhead.

Will tried to fight off a content drowsiness that settled over him. There were too many questions that he needed answers before he could doze. When he finally managed to break through the fog of exhaustion, he asked, "What did you mean? Just a minute ago, what did you mean?"

Jack eyed him, but hesitated. He bought some time by sliding his soft member out of Will and hiking his pants back into place. Will spotted his breeches several feet away, but didn't have the energy to fetch them. It was kind of nice to sit and dry off before pulling them on anyway. Staying seated, Jack slid around and leaned against the bulkhead at William's right, letting out a soft sigh before he said anything.

"I…" he faltered at the next word and looked the lad in the eye. William was waiting patiently for his answer, his brows arched in obvious anticipation. Jack reached up to run his thumb along the whelp's smooth jaw and chin, over the weak stubble that the boy liked to call a beard.

If the words had been a lie, they would probably have been easier for him to say. He was a pirate, after all, and he could tell untruths all day and night if it accomplished his purpose, but the fact that they were true almost frightened him. He was afraid that saying them might drive Will away, or that they would one day fight beyond the point of no return and it would hurt all the more for it.

"I?" Will prompted.

Jack let his questing fingers curl into the soft hairs at the base of the boy's head, coming to rest on the back of his neck. He gathered his courage and admitted, "I love ye." William's breathing hitched, so Jack barreled on, "It's like ye said, ye want this far more than what could be known as passin' time. I think of ye more often now than anythin' else and it's not just because of the sex. If I just wanted sex, I'd still be seeking companionship in Tortuga. I woo women now out of habit, not want. I haven't buggered a girl in months-"

A slight smile spread over Will's features and he cut into Jack's helpless rant, echoing the pirate's words, "You're not the only one who feels that way."

"But what about the tart? Ye had her again not long ago."

"You try telling the daughter of a governor no."

Jack quirked one eyebrow and leaned back, "Good point." They sat in comfortable silence for a minute before Jack ventured, "But I thought ye loved her."

"I do Jack, just not in the way I always thought I did. We grew up together, it's hard for me not to love her, but it's different than what I feel for you."

Captain Sparrow smirked and felt a swell of greatly needed satisfaction. Inspired, he hauled the whelp into his lap and gave William an open-mouthed kiss. His young lover reciprocated immediately and eagerly.

"What do ye say to another round?"

"Do you honestly think I'd say no?"

----------

A great many hours later, Jack was pacing along the decks of the Dutchman. He had a rather nasty bone to pick with the only tart that could be found on the immortal ship, and he would not return to the warmth of his lover's bed until he'd spoken his peace. Elizabeth had taken things too far, what with getting the whelp shot and all.

Jack found her in one of the few single cabins that the Dutchman had to offer. She was sitting on a cot, her knees tucked to her chest and looking a bit sicklier then Jack had ever seen her. She looked up as he entered, anger flushing her face immediately.

"What did you do with my treasure chest, Jack Sparrow?"

Jack rolled his obsidian eyes towards the ceiling at her casual address. "Captain," was all he said in defense.

"Where is it?" she snapped.

He wondered vaguely if tossing her own words back in her face would be too heartless, but then remembered that he was a pirate, "Somewhere safe."

The words made her bristle. "Why you rotten son of a-"

Jack cut in before she could finish, "It didn't even cross your mind that he'd get involved, did it? That he'd get in the way."

Elizabeth turned away, unwilling to answer him.

"Well, he did and it was your fault. Ye got him shot. Whatever happens between ye and I isn't supposed to affect him," Jack accused.

The girl put a dainty hand over her mouth, as if to stifle tears, though she was looking awfully green. Elizabeth Turner had not gotten seasick a day in her life, but she was beginning to feel it now. Nausea swept up from nowhere and she muttered, "I'm going to be sick."

Before Jack could get out of the way, she was on her feet and headed for the door. The Pirate King almost felt a pang of sympathy for her, until she retched all over him. After she shared her stomach contents, Elizabeth ran past him to heave over the side of the ship.

Jack continued to stand where he was. He examined his soiled clothing with a curled lip, and grumbled, "If she didn't want to talk about it, she could'av just said somethin'."

When he joined her on the main deck, the sickness had passed and she was leaning on the railing. "I've never seen ye get seasick before. I thought ye had pretty good sea-legs, even if they were a bit scrawny," Jack jested lightly. Somehow, he didn't feel like it was the time to be cruel to the lass, even if he did hate her.

"I don't think I'm seasick," Elizabeth admitted miserably. "This is the forth day this has happened."

Jack perched on the railing beside her. Either the girl was badly ill with something, or… Jack hoped his other theory wasn't right. "Anything else been botherin' ye?"

"Besides you?" When the pirate gave her a look for the comment, she let their running spat go for a minute, "No. About once a day, I get sick and then I'm alright."

It hadn't been long since the first time Elizabeth and Will had screwed one another, far too soon for Jack's theory to be solid, but the lass's symptoms made it a definite possibility. Jack had spent plenty of time in the brothels of Tortuga, and more than a share of women would be pregnant at any given time. Nausea was something that they all bitched about.

If it was so, then the whelp would be expecting a whelp of his own. They would want to get Elizabeth off the sea as soon as they could, for battle, storms, and plundering was not good for any unborn child.

-------

TBC…

So, trouble brewing on the horizon for Jack. Trouble that, of course, our saucy tart Elizabeth has started.

I know that bit towards the end was a little on the fluffy side, but pirates are allowed to have fluffy moments too!

Hehe, I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	5. Illusions

Well, I've been extremely busy, which is why this took so long...

---------------

For several weeks, the Dutchman chased the Black Pearl. Using Jack's compass (which was not wholly useful since it was pointing at Will nine times out of ten); they managed to follow her through minimally charted waters in the south.

In the time at sea, Will noticed Elizabeth's condition. The young woman only ever got sick in the early hours of the day, sometimes later depending on whether something was raising her stress level. He watched quietly to see what could be causing it, but had no answer for his wife's ailment.

Not knowing what else to do, William brought it up with his lover, who was more than willing to share his opinion. The idea Jack presented put Will into shock for several minutes. A child? Will knew nothing about kids, or raising them, so how was he going to handle having one in the midst of the everyday madness of the open ocean?

It was Jack who came up with a solution. As it was previously decided, it wouldn't be wise to let the tart remain on his ship anyway, so the sooner they could leave her on dry land, the better. Elizabeth being pregnant was only a stronger reason to get her somewhere safe. So, they decided that Will would take her back to Port Royal as soon as they'd retrieved the Pearl.

Will was afraid that it wouldn't be fair to let her raise the baby alone, but took one look at his life that always required a sword in one hand and a gun in the other and knew no child would be safe. He couldn't go on land and she couldn't stay on the ship, so the sacrifice had to be made. It was the plan originally, right?

They were nearing the seventeenth day of the hunt when the Black Pearl was spotted on the horizon.

"Pull alongside her and prepare to board," William hollered at his crew. "They may not be pleased to see us but they'll be damn fools if they fire upon us. But, if they do, I want you to take her by force!"

As they pulled close to the Pearl, they drew out of her wake and ran parallel to her port side. Familiar pirates onboard gave them a variety of reactions, some terrified to see the Dutchman and others giving a pleasant welcoming wave. Barbossa was one of the few to give the Dutchman a solid glare.

Jack hopped onto the ships railing, using a nearby Jacob's ladder to steady himself, and swept off his hat to give Barbossa a sarcastic bow. He yelled across the distance between them, "I thank ye for lookin' after me ship, but I'll be takin' her back now."

"Not a chance, Jack! The Pearl is mine," his old first mate, and long time rival, snapped back.

Will joined him at the rail. "Barbossa, we're coming aboard. If you cause us any trouble, my ship will put yours at the bottom of the ocean and no one will have her!"

The threat silenced the pirate at the Pearl's helm, but only riled up the one standing next to Will. Jack didn't remove his gaze from the beautiful sight of his ship when he spoke to the boy, "I don't want any holes in me ship."

The whelp lowered his voice and assured him, "There won't be, but it would be better if we made him think that we weren't afraid to blow him out of the water. Think of it this way, you could get another ship."

"I don't want another ship, I want the Pearl lad."

Will sighed. Jack was completely missing the point. "I know that, but we want HIM to think that you're willing to get another if he doesn't give up the Pearl."

Jack let out a drawn out 'oh' and nodded, adding, "But I still don't want you blowin' holes in me ship."

"I won't."

One of William's men announced that the lines were ready if they wished to board and it was only minutes before they were on the main deck of the Black Pearl. Jack and Will crossed to the stairs of the quarter deck, pirates scattering out of their way as they passed.

There were several new faces among the crew they'd both sailed with, probably men Barbossa had enlisted in Tortuga. They seemed the most nervous in the Dutchman's presence and were glancing back to their Captain for orders. Any one of them would attempt to sink their sword in the trespassers if given the order, but they had no idea how far back this squabble went.

Captain Barbossa greeted the pair with a good deal of caution, his hand resting very close to his pistol. He glanced from one to the other, his eyes lingering on the ragged scar peeking through William's open shirt. It was true then that the boy had replaced Jones and the Flying Dutchman was under his control. He'd doubted it, but the proof was substantial enough.

Jack smiled coldly at the man he once trusted, "I'll be takin' me ship now and you'll be headed to the brig."

"How long do ye think it'll last, Jack? No matter how many times ye take over, I always end up at her helm in the end," Barbossa reminded him.

His fingers curled just a hair's breadth from his gun, awfully tempted to just be rid of Jack once and for all. But, the damn whelp was a problem. As much as he'd seen the two fight, William actually seemed to be firmly on Jack's side this time. Since the boy was now Captain of an unsinkable ship and an immortal crew, it would be unwise to cross him.

There would be time yet.

Jack drew his sword and pressed the tip to Barbossa's neck, ordering, "To the brig." The pirate did as he was told, but didn't raise his hands in any form of surrender. Will stopped him, briefly, to relieve him of his gun and sword. The younger man stayed above deck to keep things under control.

As Jack pushed the mutinied Captain ahead of him, he asked, "'M curious, mate, why didn't ye come after me when ye realized I had the map?"

"There's more treasure to be found than what that map has to offer," Barbossa responded, leaving out more than a share of explanation.

When Jack had him locked in the Pearl's prison and was heading back up the stairs, the crafty pirate admitted the rest in a low voice, "Because I knew ye'd bring it back to me." It wasn't nearly loud enough to reach Sparrow's ears and Barbossa confidently got settled in to wait. He was a patient man.

Jack came out of the lower decks to find that William had gotten into a bit of a scuffle with big fellow he'd never seen before. It could hardly be called a fight, since the boy already had his opponent face down on the deck, with the heel of his boot pressed harshly into the pirate's back. Will's sword was resting very close to the man's eye, so he seemed perfectly content to stay underfoot until the whelp was done yelling at the rest of the Pearl's crew.

He was in the midst of it when Jack surfaced, "-and anyone who doesn't want to sail under Captain Sparrow will be seein' what true horrors wait in the Locker! Now get back to work you worthless dogs!"

Jack felt a small swell of pride. When he'd first met the boy, he'd been an exceptional sword fighter, but little else. Back then, he'd barely been able to glare at a man who'd offended him, but now he was giving orders and calling pirates nasty things when they deserved it. He'd come a long way from the gentlemanly blacksmith who'd blanched at the idea of 'borrowing' a ship from the navy.

By pirate's standards, he was becoming quite a man.

"What this one do to ye?" Jack waved a hand at the cowering bear under Will's foot.

William glanced down at him and repositioned the hardened steel in his hand over the man's jugular. "Tried to run me through," he told Jack simply.

Captain Sparrow crouched to the pirate's level and smiled, feeling just a touch devious, "I suggest ye apologize to me whelp before I let him gut ye like a fish. I hear that's a terrible way to go, yer insides hangin' out everywhere while ye try and swim from the sharks."

The surprisingly cowardly man sputtered several weak requests for forgiveness and Will shook his head. Very few men had the balls to spit in your face once they were pinned, it was almost shameful.

"Very well, but you'd best clean every bit of me ship on your hands and knees to make up for it," Jack said sharply.

The pirate nodded and scuttled away as soon as William lifted his foot. "What are you going to do with Barbossa?" the lad inquired as he sheathed his sword.

Jack had given it plenty of thought. He wanted the traitor to have exactly what he'd given Jack the first time he'd stabbed him in the back, "I figured I'd find some island and dump him with a gun and one bullet."

"This idea is sounding familiar."

"Yes, well, he did come up with it first."

Will crossed slowly to the weighted line he'd swung in on, fooling absently with the tightly corded rope while he organized his thoughts. Some instinct told him not to go, not to leave Jack alone, but he assumed that it was just his ever-present desire to keep close. He turned back, "How am I going to find you after I leave Port Royal?"

Jack looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and pulled his treasured black compass from his belt. He placed it in William's hands, curling the boy's grasp around it, "Ye must just assume that I am what yer heart wants most and ye'll find me."

Will flicked it open with a little smile. It spun briefly before settling with the arrow aimed indisputably towards Jack. "I guess I will," he said softly, fiddling with the device more than he really needed to. That disturbing whispering in the back of his head made him hesitant to leave. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be whelp?"

Will shook his head, unable to voice what troubled him. Jack stole a quick glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was paying attention and claimed his lover's mouth in a brief, but heated farewell kiss.

"It won't be long before I see ye again."

Something was missing; perhaps that was why Will was nervous. It was something about Jack. The man had everything on his person that was important: his hat, gun, sword, and Sao Feng's map. He'd given the compass to Will and was standing on his beloved ship, so what could possibly be absent? It hit the boy much the way a solid punch would, "Where's the chest?"

"Well," Jack started. It had been a difficult decision, but he'd left the chest aboard the Dutchman. Knowing he had to board the Pearl for the third, or possibly forth, time to reclaim his ship from his backstabbing crew, he'd realized that his lover's heart could easily fall into someone else's hands.

Jack gave Will a hearty pat on the shoulder and smirked, "You remember where I hid it. Give it to the lass when ye drop her in port."

The world must have stopped spinning, because Captain Jack Sparrow was willing to give up something he'd claimed. Will could hardly process the fact. "You're a good man, Jack."

"I know, but don't go telling people, I've got a reputation to keep up mate," the pirate joked with a gold-laced grin. "Now, get going."

Will swung back to the Dutchman and got her turned about, looking back at the Black Pearl until she disappeared from sight. Jack was right; it wouldn't be long they'd see each other again. Will just wished that nagging feeling would go away.

Jack watched the whelp's ship only briefly before barking orders at his stagnant crew. They scattered like leaves in the wind and got back to work, several shooting him dirty looks. He returned to the helm and ran his hands lovingly over the polished wood. The Pearl was his freedom, one of his finest loves and he was glad to be at her wheel again. The ocean opened before him like one great opportunity, an endless source of treasures and adventures.

He hadn't been at the wheel ten minutes when the foreboding, and yet not entirely unexpected, crack of a cocking pistol sounded behind his head. Jack heaved a deep sigh and turned to look down first the barrel of a gun, then down the arm holding it, and finally at the smiling face of Barbossa.

"Who let ye out?"

"What's it matter Jack?"

"I was hoping to shoot him…"

The mutinous bastard motioned with the pistol and Jack followed the movement to a dinghy the crew was getting prepared.

"Again?" he asked despairingly.

"Again," Barbossa replied smugly..

"Do I at least get a bottle of rum?"

This brought a hearty laugh from everyone present. Jack cracked a tiny grin and started to shimmy off to one side, but a firm hand on the shoulder of his coat stopped the weak escape attempt. Barbossa cut his cackling short and said, "Aye, I suppose we can get ye some. Fetch Jack a bottle from the lower decks!"

A man disappeared below, returning shortly with a bottle. He tossed it into Jack's dinghy and two sailors seized Jack's arms to throw him in after it.

"Wait!"

The pirates paused at their Captain's order. Since it was unlikely that Barbossa had a change of heart, Jack glared at him as he approached.

"I don't think ye'll be needin' these anymore," the Captain said and slid the coveted Asian maps from under Jack's belt. Jack barely had the opportunity to argue with him before they tossed him into the empty dinghy. Once he'd regained his footing, he turned back to his treacherous crew.

"Don't I get any food?"

"Nah, Jack, ye'll die faster without food and we really don't want ye coming back again," Barbossa answered as they loosed the ropes tethering the tiny boat to the Pearl.

"Then why not just shoot me?"

Barbossa ginned, showing a mouth full of gnarled, yellowing teeth, and raised his pistol. "I suppose I really hadn't thought of that."

Jack barreled on, trying to right the foolish comment, "I'll tell ye why, because ye wanted me to die a slow and terribly painful death on the open sea for gettin' in yer way all those years."

Barbossa lowered the gun and nodded at the waiting pirates. They dropped Jack's dinghy into the water. He unfurled the bamboo map as Jack disappeared from both sight and mind, twisting the second section until it revealed their prize, _Aqua de Viva._ It wouldn't be long before immortality came within their grasp.

More than defeated, Jack collapsed onto the floor of the small boat. At least he had rum. He stretched out a ring-cluttered hand to grasp for the neck of the bottle. He flicked the cork off with his thumb and dumped the contents into his mouth… which turned out to be nothing but air. Jack sat up and peered into the empty bottle. Life truly wasn't fair.

--------------

With a strong tropical wind at her back, it took the Dutchman four days to enter the waters of Port Royal. During that time, the Captain and his wife spoke very sparingly. She remained below deck for much of the voyage while he stuck firmly to the helm and the rigging. A distinct rift formed between them, one that could be tasted on the air around them.

The Dutchman avoided the busy port until nightfall. A pirate vessel, especially one as infamous as the Dutchman, was sure to cause a stir in peaceful waters. Will preferred to avoid a confrontation with the British navy since he had no intention of stealing something while he was in port.

They advanced on the quiet city a little past midnight, using the moon as their only light. Elizabeth appeared from the lower decks for the first time all day to rest her eyes on her childhood home. Will joined her at the rail and they stared at the port in an uncomfortable silence. This would be Elizabeth Turner's final port of call. There would be no more adventures once she set foot on land, her main concern turning instead to the child growing in her womb. The young woman would find plenty of trouble for herself, since it was her way, but her days of swashbuckling and sailing had come to a close.

Will cleared his throat, struggling to find the proper words to say. When nothing appropriate came to mind, he settled on fact, "One of my men will take you ashore. You should be able to take over your family fortune since you were your father's only heir."

Elizabeth turned tragic eyes to him, "When did I lose you?"

The question caught him off guard and her expression cut deep. Will stumbled over his words, unable to get them straight.

"When did I lose you to him?" she pressed again.

"I… don't know… I'm so sorry."

Elizabeth nodded curtly and returned her gaze to Port Royal.

It was not part of her nature to admit when she'd been beaten, but Jack had honestly won this one. Will no longer looked at her the way he once did. The boy had been completely smitten with her once, but as he'd become a man, something had changed. That pirate had gotten under his skin.

She would have tried to blame in on curious lust, but she'd seen them together on more than one occasion on the Pearl. Even when they weren't screwing one another, there was just something about the way they acted together, stood together, talked together… Jack needed Will just as much as Will needed Jack and Elizabeth had just fallen out of the picture somewhere along the way.

Elizabeth was determined to accept her defeat with dignity and grace, bowing out of the show without any tantrums. She was done causing grief, now it was time to let it go. At least she had a small piece of William to remind her of her time with him. She ran her hand lovingly over her still flat stomach.

It was time to go home.

Will had known this was coming, but he still felt a swell of grief for Elizabeth's departure. She'd been his only family until he was reunited with his father, and losing her was going to be a lot harder than he'd anticipated. Unable to stop himself, Will reached out and pulled Elizabeth into a hug.

She was resistant to the contact at first. This man had come into her life under the most bizarre circumstances, stolen her heart, married her, and then abandoned her (with child) for another man. But he was persistent in his attempt to bid her farewell, and she soon melted in his arms. She did not weep.

Despite her inability to hate William Turner, she would shed no tears for him.

Will released her and motioned to one of his stagnant crew members, "I want you to have something."

Maccus crossed the deck with a very familiar object in his hands. Elizabeth had to look twice to be certain she'd seen it properly, but it was indeed Will's treasure chest.

"I… I thought Jack took it."

"Well, he did… but he gave it back."

"Are we talking literally, or metaphorically?"

Will sighed at her pointed sarcasm. It stirred up his guilt, but not nearly as much as it once might've. "Part of it truly always belonged to you and always will… I want you to keep it safe," Will said softly and offered her the carved box.

She stared at skeptically, "Don't you want to give it back to your lover?"

"Jack would lose it within days, you know that. I'd really rather trust you with it."

Elizabeth postponed a moment longer, making him sweat, but took his offering. She pursed her lips and snapped, "If you don't come visit me, I'll hunt you down."

The half threat, half joke broke the hair-trigger tension and a smile slipped onto Will's features. "I'm sure you will," he responded.

Elizabeth's solid resolve not to cry didn't make it past her ride into port. By the time she stepped of the rowboat onto the docks, sobs were racking her thin frame. She clutched the precious box to her chest, barely able to feel the beat of the heart held within. Halfway down the dock, she collapsed onto her knees.

Not once did she turn to look at the Flying Dutchman as it sailed away, taking with it any hope of adventure, a small bit of her pride, and her dearest husband and first love.

---------

The events at Port Royal left the captain of the Dutchman in a foul mood. He stalked about the decks with a scowl on his face, lost in the depths of his mind. It had come to William's attention that this would be the first time he'd been on the sea without Elizabeth. Since he'd first set foot on a boat as a grown man, it had been either for, or with the governor's daughter. Not a single exception came to mind.

Leaving Elizabeth in port marked the beginning of a new stage in his life and Will wasn't sure what to think of it. But, it really didn't help that the man who'd taken her ashore immediately mentioned the lass's breakdown upon arriving back at the ship. He could have done without that tidbit of information.

What was done was done and there was no going back. He'd made the best choice for the circumstances at hand.

Will fished the black compass off his belt and flipped it open. The needle swung madly for a moment, before it settled facing south-east. It helped him get his head on straight. Elizabeth was north, so if there were any remaining doubts about who he wanted, they'd been answered.

Captain Turner shouted the heading and snapped the compass closed. Unfortunately, it put them into the wind. Even though they expertly tacked the sails to make the best of the breeze, it was terribly slow going. Will prayed silently that the wind would turn, because the twisting knot in his stomach from when they'd left Jack was making an astounding comeback. There was something wrong.

Perhaps luck was on his side, or perhaps the goddess Calypso heard his plea, but the ocean air made a change in their favor. It was still several days before they spotted a ship on the horizon.

---------------

Jack strode about on the deck of his gorgeous new ship. He'd decided to call her the Blue Pearl, in honor of his first craft. She was a mighty beauty, with tall masts and enough cannons to make any pirate proud. Her crew was a complete waste, however. In Jack's firm opinion, they didn't move fast enough or get enough done, but, strangely, they all seemed to have striking similarities to their Captain.

They scuttled around like crabs, some in the rigging, some washing the deck, and other doing a whole lot of nothing. It might have been the heat, but Jack was certain that he'd been in this strangeness before. He peered over the edge of his ship and saw water, so was not in the Locker again.

Jack had been looking for something, but what was it? He checked his belt for his compass and found that it was gone, just like the last twenty times he'd looked for it. If he didn't have his compass, how was he supposed to remember what kind of treasure he'd been after?

His entire ship wavered like heat coming off desert sand, then vanished, leaving him on a tiny boat under the scorching Caribbean sun.

"Damn," he croaked softly.

He was going to need a ship that was more reliable if he planned on doing any kind of pillaging… He couldn't be in the middle of a raid on some port and have both his crew and his ship disappearing like smoke in the wind. Jack would become the laughing stock of the whole Caribbean.

Wasn't he standing just a moment ago? When had he taken up a completely prone position on the base of this tiny dinghy? If he ever saw a dinghy ever again, it would be too soon.

He reached up slowly to pull his hat further down over his eyes, but his hand shook slightly. It really had been acting up the past few days.

Exactly how many days had it been since Barbossa kicked him off the Pearl? Jack couldn't recall. On the second day, he'd found a small stash of food under the supporting planks of the dinghy, hopefully put there by someone on the Pearl who actually liked him. There had even been a bottle of rum (not the empty one) that had been thoughtfully provided, but he'd burned through all of that some time ago. Hunger had really ceased to be an issue because his stomach had given up on him about the third day it hadn't received sustenance.

Jack turned his eyes slowly to the old rum bottle. In a moment of madness, he'd filled it with seawater, but never had gone crazy enough to drink it. Any pirate worth his salt knew better than to drink seawater. Although, when one was really desperate…

When he returned his gaze to the open ocean, it was blocked by a strangely familiar body.

There was no way that the whelp had arrived on his dinghy so randomly; Will was off dropping the tart in Port Royal. So, that left only one option… he was an illusion conjured by Jack's very desperate mind.

"Are you a figment of me imagination, or a delusion?" Jack paused, a crease forming in his brow, "Although, I think if I'd imagined ye, ye'd be naked."

Imaginary Will seemed extremely concerned. He was checking Jack over and muttering under his breath. In fact, Jack was beginning to think that his imaginary Will was no fun at all. Imaginary Will didn't seem at all interested in stripping off his clothes… or Jack's for that matter, so what good was he as a figment?

"We need to get you some water," imaginary Will said softly, brushing his fingers across Jack's chapped lips.

Strange that the illusion of Will was so solid… "But we're surrounded by water mate," Jack slurred with a cocked grin.

Will's frown deepened, "Please tell me you haven't been drinking seawater!"

Jack didn't answer. The Blue Pearl swam back into focus, along with her useless crew. At least it had chosen a good time to return. Even figment Will would be impressed with her grandeur. "Welcome to the Blue Pearl, luv."

----------------

Will was extremely disturbed by the state he found his lover in. The man was a complete wreck. Anger and vengeance would come later, for now, the young man was more concerned about getting Jack Sparrow back to health.

As soon as he realized that the dot on the horizon was a dinghy and Jack was her sole occupant, he slipped through the wall of his ship and back up through the floor of Jack's rowboat. Traveling in such a manner left odd sensations tingling down his spine, but he wasn't nearly patient enough to avoid them.

The Dutchman caught up with him within a few minutes and they hauled Jack, and his dinghy, onboard.

The man was in a state of complete insanity… which wasn't too far from his normal state of mind, but was far enough to raise a few eyebrows. He ranted endlessly about the Blue Pearl and how they needed to take him to Tortuga so he could get a new crew.

Will escorted him away gently, the only one willing to nod and respond to everything he said. He got Jack settled in the Captain's Quarters and left him alone only a moment to get some clean water. When he returned, Jack was yelling at a support beam, his sword drawn. Apparently, it had done or said something to offend him. Will had no trouble wrestling the weapon from him in his decrepit condition.

For many days, Will nursed his lover. Jack's strength returned quickly, but it took his mind a bit longer to catch up. The Dutchman didn't venture into the Locker during this time. Captain Turner was unwilling to risk Jack while he was sick, since he'd nearly lost him to the Locker when he'd been quite well. He was afraid that it would be no trouble to pry Jack's soul from his body when he wasn't capable of putting up a good fight.

The Spirit's Call began to hum softly in the lower decks, for there was work to be done.

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Alright… I like this story, but it hasn't exactly gotten a spectacular amount of page views. I'm actually really discouraged by the lack of attention Eternity has gotten. So, unless I get some kind of response after this chapter, I think I'm going to stop writing. I really do have so much more planned for this story. If you're interested you have to let me know. Drop a review once in a while people… I live off feedback and nothing else, so you have to give me something for motivation!

TBC, maybe…


	6. The Tragedy of the Black Pearl

Okay, I feel I got a sufficient response to continue this story. Actually, I got a lot more response than I was expecting. I was thinking that 10 reviews would be enough to keep this going, but ya'll took me by surprise and sent a whole hell of a lot more than that. I'm glad you like this pairing as much as I do.

Now, I'm determined to see this through to the end.

Please forgive any mistakes, I didn't send it out to be beta-ed!

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Will didn't open his eyes when he awoke. It was still very early; he could feel it in the air. The ocean air had an almost unnoticeable bite of chill to it, but it would fade as soon as the sun rose and the heat would return. It was winter in the Caribbean… or maybe it was fall. Will had never really experienced seasons until he'd ventured outside the Caribbean… he was not a fan of the cold.

He snuggled a little deeper under the thin coverlet on his bed. The warmth at his back shifted and an arm slipped around his chest. A groggy smile slid onto Will's face.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" the young man murmured.

"I am restin', can't ye tell?"

A hand slid teasingly up his bare chest. It lingered momentarily, hovering over his collarbone and tracing the lines of his neck muscles, before it slid gingerly down his ribcage. It roved down the slight curve of his waist, bumping over his hipbone, lingering on the ink sparrow at widest part of his hip, and finally trailing along the smooth curve of his buttocks.

Will savored the heat and tingle of his flesh reacting to Jack's touch.

"I'd say you're trying to start something."

Jack chuckled. "Ye'd be right," he breathed in the lad's ear. He coaxed the boy onto his back and all but disappeared beneath the sheet. Will didn't have to ask what he was up to, he could feel his lover's tongue exploring his stomach and heading towards deeper waters.

Jack paused as he reached the curly nest of hair in the 'v' of Will's legs. He buried his nose in the soft curls, breathing in the scent of sweat, sex, and sea water.

"You smell divine luv."

Will chuckled, "I think it's a smell only you could appreciate. Elizabeth was always telling me to take a bath."

"That reminds me, how'd the tart take the send off?"

The content smile on the boy's face faded slightly. "As well as could be expected."

Jack let it drop. He didn't want the mood to swing too dramatically in the opposite direction, and that's exactly what it was going to do if the lad kept thinking about the loss of his bonnie lass. He watched as his lover's expression turned inwards and he could see too many wheels turning behind that lovely face. Acting quickly, Jack decided on a shock tactic to derail Will's train of thought.

Will all but jumped out of his skin as Jack took his entire cock deep into his throat. The feeling was exquisite, hot and tight. The older pirate hummed softly as he worked and the lad arched his back off the bed.

"Oh God!" was all he managed.

Jack had never given him such pleasures before. When he tended to his erection, it was always with his hand. Will wasn't even aware that it could be done with someone's mouth.

It wasn't a pleasure he'd soon forget.

Jack held firmly to the lad's hips to keep any wild thrusting under control. He deep throated the whelp a few times, then moved back to tongue and tease the weeping head. Underneath his hands, the muscles in Will's stomach and legs tightened. New stimulation brought orgasms more quickly, but he didn't want the boy going off just yet. He continued to drag him towards the edge until he knew Will was teetering dangerously on the brink.

Will let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when Jack's mouth abruptly left his nether regions. A hazy fog had settled over his mind and he was completely lost in it. His only coherent thought was to wonder why the wonderful stimulation had stopped.

He whimpered softly, unable to voice his need with words.

The sound went straight to Jack's groin. Why did the boy have to be so sinfully adorable? It didn't seem right that one human being should be so attractive. But, it didn't matter, because he was Jack's now. He didn't have to share the whelp with Miss Swann, err, Mrs. Turner anymore, so every inch of the boy's body belonged to him.

Jack claimed Will's mouth ferociously. There was a hiccup of time before the aroused youth responded, returning the kiss with as much fire as he was given. Their tongues dueled for dominance, but Jack got backup from his teeth and Will opened his mouth in submission. Jack allowed his tongue one good sweep of his spoils, then shifted his weight back. Will leaned forward as Jack retreated, wanting more, but the older pirate pushed him down.

"Roll over," Jack commanded in a husky voice.

Will did so, sliding up onto his hands and knees. The position gave Jack perfect access to what he wanted. Using spit, since he'd run out of oil, Captain Sparrow slid a finger into Will's opening. The lad was still loose from the previous night's activities, so it didn't take Jack long to get him ready. He rubbed his fingertips against the boy's sweet spot until he was purring with contentment.

Will collapsed onto his lower arms. His legs threatened to buckle as well, but he managed to stay upright.

Jack smiled at the panting mess his lover had become. That was always his favorite part of making love. He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock. The boy under his hands pushed back, eager to be impaled on the engorged length. He had only managed to take in half of it before Jack stopped him.

"Can't have you doin' that luv," Jack groaned and firmly seized the lad's hips, adding in a soft slur, "Ye'll end things early doin' somethin' like that."

Will growled in frustration. He wanted satisfaction NOW, not when Jack felt like giving it to him. His reaction earned him nothing but a healthy chuckle from his lover.

Jack pulled out of the boy's tight body, "Yer a bit too eager whelp."

He grabbed Will's arm and turned him, even as Captain Turner spoke, "You made me this way."

"Did I now?" Jack traced his hands along the lad's thighs and gently persuaded Will to straddle his waist.

He met Jack's kohl rimmed eyes, giving him a mocking glare. "Aye, you did," he stated and wound his hands into Jack's dreadlocks. Their lips met briefly, but Will broke away with a cry when Jack shoved inside him.

"If it's my fault, then I may as well give you what ye want."

Will grit his teeth and shifted on the older man's lap, trying to get adjusted to the abrupt intrusion. It felt good, but there was always the initial pain to get through. Will rose to his knees experimentally. Jack's member slid nearly out of him before he pushed back down.

The lover's shared a groan at the slow merging of their bodies. It was a perfect moment: when the waves froze, the skies grew quiet, and the world stilled on its axes. There was nothing left but them.

Jack wrapped his arms tightly around the boy's waist, gently urging him to move. He rose to his knees again, but the older pirate caught him off guard by thrusting as he came back down on him. The resulting friction was phenomenal. Will howled his lover's name through the ecstasy.

Jack bit down on the whelp's shoulder and started their pace. It began slowly, thrust meeting thrust, but become more erratic as their speed increased. Will slammed down eagerly onto the body below him. He ceased to recognize where his flesh ended and Jack's began. They became one, carnal creature made up of desire and lust.

Jack admired the wanton abandonment with which his companion approached their love-making, his head thrown back, murmuring and screaming at the ceiling. Occasionally, he would tilt his head forward to rest on Jack's shoulder, so he could kiss the older pirate's neck. The lad was a creature of boundless passion and went into every situation with as much fervor as he could muster. Jack really wouldn't have it any other way.

Feeling the heat of the approaching finale, Jack slid his hand down between their sweat-slicked bodies to finish the boy off. He'd barely touched him when he reached orgasm. Jack buried himself deep into Will and spilled his seed, following the whelp over the edge.

They both fell back onto the tiny bed, Will bumping his head on the same god-forsaken carving he'd hit every time he lay down. He gave the sea serpent an angry look, because he was too spent to muster anything else, and curled up with his lover.

Jack took up a comfortable position with his head resting in the curve of William's neck. Will allowed his hand to play over the shapes of Captain Sparrow's back, tracing lightly of the multitude of tattoos there.

Work stewed in the back of his mind. They'd neglected their duties on the other side and Will could feel it in his core. It was almost like something was physically pulling at his insides. It was not a wholly pleasant feeling.

"Jack…," the lad ventured.

Jack groaned and rubbed his face against the boy's smooth skin. Why did the lad have to ruin the afterglow with talk? It's not like they had anything too terribly important to talk about, right?

"What," he slurred in response.

"We're going to have to cross over soon."

The mutinied Captain gave the immortal Captain the hairy eyeball. The boy really had no concept of good, after-sex etiquette. "I believe ye've mentioned that already."

"I know, but it really needs to be sooner rather than later. We've been waiting for you to feel better. The bell has been making noise for days, so waiting much longer could be problematic."

"Problematic?" Jack echoed, busying himself with the little expanse of flesh under his companion's jaw.

Will rolled his eyes skyward. Jack really didn't think about anything that wasn't in the immediate 'now'. Will had been expecting the man to put 'Locker responsibilities' together with 'not doing the job' and the late Davy Jones

"I don't think you'd be quite so cuddly if I turned into a squid."

An image of his lover with tentacles sprouting from his jaw sent a shudder down his spine. Jack sat up abruptly, his dark eyes wide with understanding. "Why the hell are ye layin' around here boy?! Get your ass to the Locker and do your job!"

Will burst into laughter, doubling over when his stomach muscles started cramping up. Jack was mortified that William was taking things so lightly. It was a matter of vital importance that he get back to work! What if he did turn into a squid! Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Will sat up and kissed him.

"We'll go now."

The boy rolled out of the bed and picked up his knickers. He hiked them on and sat down to pull on his boots. He tugged at the soft leather to get it past his calf, but felt no movement behind him. Will turned to find Jack watching him intently.

"I thought getting back to work was top priority," Will said teasingly, a faint smile curving his lips.

"What if the fountain is just a crock of grog?"

Will paused and focused on the older pirate, joking, "I've always heard it was water."

"What if it isn't real?" Jack responded sharply. "What if we follow these damn maps and there's nothing at the end?"

"Well, I guess we'll turn around and come back."

"That's really not the point, lad."

The boy fell on the bed next to him. He knew exactly what Jack was worried about. What if there was no way for him to gain immortality while Will was forever unchanged? The thought of an eternity alone was daunting.

"I guess we'll find another way. There are far more stories dealing with immortality than just the Fountain."

"And what if there isn't a way?"

Will opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of anything else to say. "I don't know," he muttered in defeat. "I just don't know."

Jack sighed. He probably shouldn't have said anything. The lad's brow creased deeply as he thought about it, it was not a look that Jack liked. Will tended to fret about something until he made himself sick. Jack snagged the boy's jaw and titled his face up. He kissed Will reassuringly, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind.

"Maybe I'm just pessimistic."

"For a man who started a conversation with 'cuttlefish', pessimistic is a bit sophisticated for you, isn't it?" Will remarked with a small smile, doing his best to ignore the very nerve racking subject his lover had brought up.

Jack's obsidian eyes narrowed at the comment and he pinched the arrogant youth's ribcage. Will squirmed away from him with a laugh, hopping back to his feet. "Get dressed Sparrow, we've got work to do."

"We? Isn't this yer job whelp?"

Will slipped on his shirt, and marched out on the deck without his companion. He yelled at his idle crew, "We cross over! Get everything ready!"

They'd passed to the other side before Jack joined him at the helm. He glanced uncertainly at the bell they were erecting on the lower decks and tapped Will's shoulder. "Um… what the plan to make sure that," Jack gestured widely at the Spirit's Call, "doesn't try to kill me… again…"

"I sent one of my men into Port Royal while we were there to pick something up. Hadras!"

A tall, lanky man tending the lines turned at the sound of his name.

"Would you bring me Captain Sparrow's wax?" Will called.

Jack titled his head slightly. Why in Calypso's name would he need wax? And didn't that pirate's head used to be a detachable crustacean? He peered closely at the pirate's face, trying to picture it surrounded by a shell. He was still attempting to figure it out when the gangly man handed something to Will and went back to work.

"Jack…"

It was either that, or half of his face was once a puffer fish, Jack wasn't quite sure which…

"Jack!"

He turned back to the whelp and left his pondering. The lad was holding a small box in his outstretched hand.

"This is beeswax, to plug your ears. I used to use it in the smithy when I couldn't sleep, it helped block out the sound of Mr. Brown's snoring," Will explained as Jack quizzically examined the molded wax. "Now, put them in before they finish getting the bell ready. I'd really rather not have a repeat of your last adventures here."

Jack did so, not wanting to repeat things any more than Will. Not that he remembered anything, but it had sounded quite excruciating in the retellings. Noise from the crew dropped to almost nothing once the wax was in place. He gave the lad a nod, and Will gave the final, albeit extremely muffled, command to his crew.

They released the bell and shuffled back several steps. The behemoth remained motionless for a moment, and then swung as though it was caught by a mighty wind. The nearly-visible force of the chime swept across the boat and out across the water, passing by Captain Sparrow with little more than a gentle ruffling of his clothes.

Will let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. At least there was one less thing to worry about.

The boats came first, gliding silently across the dark water. There weren't many of them. Between the celebration in Shipwreck City and the lack of major storms in the Caribbean the past few weeks, there were very few good souls to be collected. Not many innocents could be caught in non-existent crossfire. The souls boarded the Dutchman quietly, gathering on the deck in a relatively small cluster.

As soon as the last boat disappeared off the water, those swelling beneath the waves poured through the underbelly of the ship. At the pace they were coming in, it only took moments for the Dutchman to fill to capacity. Will surveyed the numbers carefully. It had been long enough since they're last visit that there'd been quite a pile-up, and it was going to take at least two trips to level things out.

Jack, on the other hand, watched the souls themselves. He wasn't fond of being near so many dead, vengeful spirits. The souls that came through the bilge were not only disgusting to look at, they smelled quite offensive. It was amazing how many of them appeared to be pirates.

Jack had been damn lucky in his lifetime. He'd been a pirate since the day he could toddle and, unlike so many poor bastards, he'd managed to survive a good number of years as one. Being a pirate was dangerous business, and you either had to be extremely skilled, or very lucky to stay alive.

He glanced over the rows of souls, his eyes catching on a strangely familiar hat. It was a large, floppy hat with a long feather sticking out of the band and the last time he'd seen it, it was on top of the crown of one Hector Barbossa.

Jack swaggered down to the main deck, careful to keep an eye on the soul in question, and weaved through the copious amount of spirits in his way. He ducked around a shabby-looking wench with one eye and found himself face to face with the man who'd stabbed him in the back too many times to count.

Jack was unable to stop the crow of laughter that escaped him. "They finally decide to toss ye over as well? It's about damn time!" Barbossa's soul continued to stare ahead blankly, either unwilling or unable to answer him. It didn't matter, because Jack was going to gloat anyway. The bastard had finally gotten what he deserved. It was just a shame Jack hadn't been there to see it.

"Ye brought this on yourself, after so many…" Jack trailed off when he noticed another disturbingly familiar pirate out of the corner of his eye. It was the short, round little man with receding hair, the one Jack always saw hanging around with the man that might have well have been a walking stick… Pintel was his name and the stick was Ragetti.

Jack had no smart remark for him, or for Ragetti, who he spotted a few feet away. In a slight panic, he searched the rest of the souls. One after another, he found the pirates who manned the Black Pearl in the masses on the Dutchman. Who the hell was on the Pearl if her crew was in the Locker?!

Jack grabbed at the nearest pirate, though his hands went straight through the man. "Where's me ship! What the hell happened to me ship?!" he yelled at the blank face. He scuttled from one to another, hollering the same questions.

A very physical body interrupted his mad dash and he looked up to find Will motioning at his ears. It took Jack a brief moment to catch the hint and pry the wax out so he could hear him. He didn't give the lad a moment to get a word in, "Something's happened to the Pearl! What if other pirates have taken over her?! What if there was a storm and now there's no one to man her? What if they were caught by the navy and she's in the hands of the law?!"

The man flailed in ways Will had never seen him flail while he was going through his possibilities. He kept his tongue firmly in check over his own idea. Mentioning it would probably give Jack a stroke and he was already worked up enough as is.

When he was a touch calmer, Captain Turner cut in, "Asking the crew really isn't going to get us anywhere. A soul can't really hear you, and even if they do, their responses are always vague."

Jack gave him a wide-eyed look of desperation, "But what about me ship, boy?"

"I think we should finish the job here, and then we'll use your compass to find your ship."

Jack processed Will's offer, and accepted with a curt nod.

They both headed back for the helm but something stopped William in his tracks. As they passed Mr. Cotton and his parrot, the wispy bird let out a terrible screech. When Will looked at the creature, it spoke in a raspy, drawn out voice, "Here there be monsters." He tried to question the parrot about its words, but he got nothing else out of it.

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When the Flying Dutchman returned to the land of the living (and Jack still having no ill side-effects from the crossover), they got down to the business of locating the Black Pearl. Jack kept to the helm, compass in hand, to give heading when need be and keep watch for his beloved Pearl.

His strange compass gave him very little trouble, pointing in an almost constant southerly direction. When Jack's mind slipped away from the Pearl, the needle would swing round to point at the whelp, but he would get it back under control quickly.

For days, they saw nothing but open ocean. On their third night out, the sky split and released a terrible downpour. The deluge came with little wind to speak of, so the seas were as calm as a sailor could ask for in a storm, but it cut visibility to nothing. The two pirate Captains remained on deck for part of the storm, until Will decided it was time to furl the sails and wait out the remainder of the rain. He gave the wheel to his father and Will and Jack disappeared into the Captain's quarters until dawn.

The eighth and ninth days passed with little to remark on. The Dutchman's crew passed the time with dice, betting food rations they didn't really need instead of years of service. Eating was, after all, a luxury for an immortal pirate. They felt hunger like any mortal man, but wouldn't die if that hunger wasn't satisfied.

Around noon on the eleventh day, Jack's compass slowly changed heading. The pirate didn't recall allowing his mind to wander to his lover, though the needle didn't stop as it passed by the boy at the helm.

Jack pushed off the railing he was leaning on and crossed to Will. "Lad, I think we may need to turn about."

Will leaned to peer at the current heading with a furrowed brow, asking, "Do you think they moved your ship?"

"Save for making me ship damn near invisible, I don't see how they got past us. Unless you noticed the Pearl sailing by while I was napping," Jack commented with a touch of light sarcasm.

Will gave him an annoyed look for it, but said nothing. "Turn the ship about!" Will yelled at his crew.

They scurried into the rigging and swarmed across the decks to get the sails re-tacked. The massive ship made a graceful arc in the water. Jack's compass turned as the ship turned, slowly swinging back to point out across her bow. He watched it carefully when they started north, his gut sinking when it swung round again. Whatever it was pointing at was probably under the water.

"Drop anchor!" Jack shouted.

Will's crew hesitated until their Captain repeated Jack's order.

"What's going on?" Will asked.

The wily pirate didn't answer him, too busy mucking around inside his own head to do so. He trotted down from the helm and hurried to the bow. The compass held steady. Jack put the tool away and leaned out over the edge of the boat, staring past the bowspirit and down into the bright blue ocean. He hoped that his Pearl wasn't underneath all that water.

Will caught up to him as the anchor reached the bottom and the Dutchman lurched to a halt.

"Jack, what the hell is going on?" Will asked again.

"Well, as far as I can figure it, either there's a case of rum at the bottom of the sea, or me ship is at the bottom of the sea."

"Oh." Will leaned over the edge with him, "How do we tell the difference?"

"Maybe if I had some rum, I wouldn't want rum and then it would point somewhere else."

It seemed logical enough, so Will disappeared into the hold and came back with a bottle. Jack took it from him, turning his eyes back to the compass to see if the heading changed. The needle didn't waver.

"Maybe you have to drink it?" Will offered.

Jack popped the cork off and downed several good swallows before checking the compass. It remained steady.

"Shit," the pirate mumbled.

If it wasn't the whelp and it wasn't rum, then it had to be the Black Pearl. His beautiful ship was at the bottom of the sea. Jack's guts twisted into knots with this knowledge. What on earth could sink the Pearl? If used properly, she was one of the fastest ships on the seven seas and had more than enough fire-power to take care of any problems that might pull up beside her. What kind of trouble had Barbossa gotten her into that she'd be sent to a watery grave?

Will, not knowing what else to do, put a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder. The Pearl had been Jack's life. When he wasn't at her helm, he was hunting her down so he could retake her. Will knew how hard Jack would take the loss.

"We have to send someone down to her."

"What?!"

Jack turned to his lover, a fire in his eyes. "We have to be sure it's her."

"Jack, can't we take the compass's word for it," Will pleaded. They were in deep water and sending a man down could very well be suicide.

"We could… but the maps were on me ship."

Will cursed and peered over the railing. "Who the hell are we going to send?"

"Well, I would just suggest one of the men, but yer the only one who knows what they look like. And yer the only one that knows the Pearl as well as I do."

"Why don't you go down then?"

"Yer the immortal one mate."

Will repeated his curse and glared at Jack. "Your trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"'Immortal' being the key word there, luv," Jack returned.

A voice interrupted their argument from behind, "Davy was part of the sea, boy, I don't think you'll have any trouble." The older Turner joined them at the rail. "So, that's finally the end of the infamous Pearl."

Jack stiffened at the phrase.

Bootstrap noticed his reaction. It was time that Jack let the Pearl go, especially after he'd lost her so often. "She was a cursed ship, Jack," he said quietly.

"No, we broke the curse when we returned the last of the gold," Jack defended.

Bootstrap shook his head. He'd really have to ask his boy to tell him that story one day. The last he'd heard, the Aztec curse still had a firm hold on the Pearl and her crew, but he knew young William had something to do with the lifting of said curse.

"That's not what I meant. That ship lost her Captain so many times that she had a very different kind of curse. You never would have kept hold of her," Bill added, punctuating his words by spitting into the water.

Jack groaned and leaned on the railing, unable to think up a single response. Bill was right, in a way, but the Pearl would always be his.

Will cut in, "Cursed or no, I'm assuming the maps are still on the Pearl."

"Aye, that would be a likely guess."

The boy nodded and shucked off his shirt. It briefly crossed his mind that he really couldn't seem to stay dressed long, but he pushed the thought away. The boots came off next and he laid his cutlass and pistol across them. When he was down to his knickers, he jumped onto the rail.

Jack curled his hand around William's calf to hold him back. "Ye really only need to concern yerself with the maps. I'm sure Barbossa was keeping them in me quarters," Jack instructed before he let the lad go.

Captain Turner gave his lover a smile and braced himself for the dive. It was his firm belief that the Pearl would be too deep for him to reach. There was only so much depth a body could take before it quit working. But, if his father's words of encouragement were right, then his body could handle anything the ocean came up with.

Except maybe sharks…

Will leapt off the Dutchman and disappeared into the ocean's arms. It was only seconds before he swam out of sight below the surface.

Out of sight of the ship's crew, where boat met waterline, a small creature clambered onto the Dutchman's hull. It shook fiercely to rid its fur of water, but only succeeded in becoming slightly less soggy. The beast maneuvered up the ship's side and slipped, unseen, into one of the many open portholes.

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Will descended slowly into the deep abyss of the ocean. Every stroke of his powerful arms brought him closer to a thick darkness that obscured the sea floor. The farther down he got, the more his lungs tightened painfully. He tried to reassure himself that he didn't need to breathe, but panic settled in. There was no way for him to reach the surface in time. He'd gone too far!

Will released the last of his air as he swam uselessly for the top, the pockets floating away from him in a rhythmic dance, but he didn't black out. The pain faded as the air disappeared from sight. He took a moment to calm down and found that he felt just fine. Taking note not to hold onto a breath when he swam, he continued on.

No one needed to know about that little panic attack.

As he moved through the seemingly endless darkness, strange shapes materialized in the murky shadows. They grew up from the black and became the jagged, broken masts of the Pearl. Strips of sail still hung from the boom, floating on the ocean current in a mocking eulogy to the wind.

The ship was in horrendous shape. As Will's eyes adjusted to the thick gloom, he could make out pale bodies trapped in the wreckage. The dead didn't frighten him, he'd seen them before, but the tremendous hole in the Pearl's side sent a tremor down his spine. There wasn't anything in the ocean large enough, or vicious enough, to do so much damage to a ship since the Kraken had perished.

Perhaps the beast wasn't dead after all?

Will grabbed a stray line and hauled himself towards the deck. The breach that was the Pearl's downfall ran up across the main deck and through the mizzenmast, which must have fallen before the ship sank. It was laying some distance away, half buried in the sand.

Will hooked his hand into a scupper to weigh himself down and moved closer to one of the bodies tangled in the loose rigging. It was strange that there was no sign of any kind of fish activity on the bloated flesh. Normally, sharks and fish alike would cluster around wreckage and feast on the bodies in the water. The fish would come first, then flee when the larger predators began showing up.

Sharks weren't normally scared away by any other predators; they would even feed when larger sharks came to the area, so why were the dead still whole?

Too many questions, too few answers. Will decided to focus on finding the maps, like Jack had suggested. He entered the Captain's Quarters and began searching. Everything loose had tumbled to the starboard side, the side the Pearl had finally come to rest on at the bottom of the ocean. Will dug through the disrupted piles.

It was darker in the ship than it was outside and Will had a hard time discerning what he was looking at. He knew the maps were constructed of flat bamboo, so he felt the textures of every object that passed through his hands. Nothing came even remotely close to what he was looking for.

Next, he checked drawers and chests, and finally moved to the heavy table bolted to the floor. He swept his hand across the polished surface and encountered something solid. Whatever it was, it was sharp and bit into his flesh deeply. He clutched the wounded hand and peered into the shadows to barely make out the handle of a dagger.

It was pinning something to the table, something lighter than the surrounding wood. Will reached out more carefully, brushed his fingertips over the surface and found the texture he'd been searching for. He victoriously yanked the knife out of the table and rolled up the map.

He swam out of the wreckage and headed for the surface, his prize tucked securely in his belt. Several hundred yards to his left, beyond the wreckage of the finest pirate ship ever to sail the seven seas, the murky darkness twisted and writhed. A shadow far more sinister than those around it slid across the ocean floor and crawled over the Black Pearl, claiming its kill.

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TBC! And I can say that in caps because it's true. So, the plot is really starting to pick up in this chapter and you'll start to see where I'm headed soon. Unfortunately, this will be the last hardcore smut scene you'll see for a while, but I can't tell you why!

I also wanted to thank danglingdingle, for the lovely review you sent me. There aren't many reviews that make me as happy as yours did.


	7. Beasties

So, here is the update. I'm a little slow, but I'm always a little slow, so there's no need to be repetitive. Here it is, enjoy.

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Will surfaced a few feet from the hull of his ship.

"Line!" He yelled up.

Nothing dropped and no one answered. It was strange. He hadn't been gone that long, had he?

"Jack? Maccus? Bill?"

He sighed. It was simple enough to climb up the side of the ship, but it would be a lot easier if his crew was paying attention. Will grumbled as he grabbed an edge and hauled himself up. Water sloughed off him in sheets, the weight of his wet clothing slowing him down only slightly. Somebody would get chewed out over this.

Halfway up the hull, Will's ears perked at the sound of loud arguing. The sharp twang of steel clashing against steel spurred him to rush up the last few feet of the ship.

He paused just below the railing. He had no gun and no sword, having left both on the deck so he could swim. If it was a spat between his men, he, hopefully, wouldn't need his sword, but if it was something else, he didn't want to jump into the fray unarmed.

Will shimmied around the edge of the boat towards the bow. His things should have gone unnoticed, no matter what was going on above him. An unfamiliar voice rose over the others and he paused to listen.

"Get out of my way you scabby dogs!"

As Will rounded the edge of the hull, another ship came into view. It was anchored a few hundred yards away. Pirate colors flew with its sails, colors Will recognized. It was a boat he'd seen in Shipwreck Cove and at the battle with the East India Trading Company.

Will stretched up just enough to peer over the edge of the deck. Several dozen enemies had gathered on the Dutchman, but they were at a standstill. His men were gathered near the helm while the others were clustered behind three central figures; Gentleman Jocard, Mistress Ching, and Captain Chevalle.

"Out of the way, our fight is not with you!" Jocard bellowed at the men standing between him and Jack (who seemed perfectly content to let them fight his battle).

Bootstrap was at the forefront of those protecting Jack, as the first mate, he was the one to speak for Will's men, "You're not taking anyone or anything from this ship. Leave now or we'll tear you apart."

Will slipped an arm through to grab his sword and gun. He left his boots, because there wouldn't be enough time to get them on. He was going to have splinters from hell later. He strapped on his gun and swung over the railing.

"What the hell are you doing on my ship?!"

Every pair of eyes turned towards him, and there was a pause before Gentleman Jocard muscled his way through the pirates. He eyed Will, sizing him up.

"Your ship?" He laughed, "You're just a boy." His laughter stopped short as something crossed his mind. His eyes widened and he peered at William more closely. "I shot you."

There was no way the boy could have survived; Jocard had shot him dead square in the chest. On his bare flesh, clear as day, was the small circular scar confirming that he'd hit him.

Jack chose that moment to perk up, "And I still owe ye for that!"

Jocard turned a nasty glare at Jack and the eccentric pirate shrank back.

"But… I'm sure we can settle that later," Jack slurred, more to himself than Jocard.

The Frenchman, Chevalle, added his own thoughts, "The Gentleman is right, he did shoot you. How did you survive such a wound to the chest? It should have turned your heart into pig slop."

"That would be an issue, if I had one," Will said smartly, drawing his sword. "Now, I want you off of my ship or I'll let my men feed you to the sharks." Not that he'd seen any in the water.

"We have three times the men that you do, what makes you so threatening boy?" Jocard yelled.

He dismissed the fact that Will seemed indestructible. Perhaps the boy was luckier than any man he'd ever known, but they'd chased the Pearl for weeks looking for Jack and no haughty lad was going to stand in their way. Jack would die and he, Jocard, would become the next pirate king.

Will's men went into an uproar. The Pirate Lords may have brought more manpower, but they wouldn't go down in a fight!

"This is the Dutchman you bilge rats! We are the scourge of the sea and something you've all feared in the past! Jones may be gone, but we can still collect your souls!" Bill bellowed.

The other immortal pirates took up the chorus. This bastard wasn't going to come aboard their ship and start throwing insults around.

"You may have us outnumbered three to one, but we don't die! Changes your odds, doesn't it?!"

The tension in the air was wound tighter than the catgut on a violin. The slightest trigger would send the pirate brothers into a raging blood bath and it wasn't something any Captain really wanted. Steel should not be used against a brother, but against an enemy. The Code saw to that. Only those who violated the Code deserved to be struck down by another pirate's hand.

At least, that was the theory.

Mistress Ching's sharp voice cut through the useless bickering like a well-maintained katana, "Enough!" The arguments ceased immediately and she spoke in the following silence, directing her words at William, "We are not fools boy. A fight here would only waste lives and resources. You are the one who replaced Jones, are you not?"

"I am."

That would explain the brat's inability to die… Jocard bit back any comments he may have been waiting to release. Perhaps it was best not to test the next Davy Jones.

Ching continued, speaking slowly and evenly to help keep her English understandable, "We can come to some kind of arrangement without spilling blood. All we want is Sparrow and we'll leave you and your shipmates to do as you will."

Will raised an eyebrow and put away his sword. "You want to make a deal… for Jack?" He sent a glance in his lover's direction, who returned it with a quizzical expression.

There was no way the lad would give him up. Although, thinking back over his relationship with the boy, he hadn't always been the best model of loyalty. He had given him over to Jones to get the key to the chest, but he hadn't exactly told William that. As far as the boy knew, he'd surrendered him to pay back his debt. Will may have figured it out later, but it was still something the lad grilled him about.

And there was the time he was going to use him as leverage against Barbossa… and the other time that he… Now Jack was worried… But Will wasn't that much like him, was he?

"What do you have to offer?"

He was doomed.

Ching smiled broadly, pleased. "I have some of the finest treasure from around the world, riches you've probably never laid eyes on before," she boasted proudly. "It all depends on how much you think the scoundrel is worth."

Will crossed his arms and thought about it for a moment. He shot a look to his lover, along with a reassuring wink, and turned his gaze back to the scourge of China, "It's a fine offer, but what good is treasure to me? I can only set foot on land for one day every decade, how would I spend it?"

The woman's sure smile faded. He had a good point, but there had to be alternatives, "You have a fine crew, perhaps your men could go ashore for you and purchase anything you needed."

Will wasn't normally very good with words. In fact, he could get himself into more trouble with them, but he had a plan this time. "But why would I send them ashore to buy things when they could steal whatever supplies we need?"

Ching was getting visibly frustrated. Her lips pressed together until they were white, and her thin, well maintained brows knit, making her carefully-covered wrinkles more prominent. Despite her obvious anger, she kept her voice surprisingly smooth, "Every pirate wants treasure, boy, even if they don't spend it. Isn't that the point of pirating?"

"Ah, but my crew isn't here to collect treasure, our purpose is to collect souls."

Jocard cut in, impatient with their banter, "Then we will trade another man for him. One of our pirates for one of yours, would that not be a fair deal?"

"Well," the Captain of the Dutchman paused. It was fair, by most standards, so he would need to think up a good answer to dissuade the offer. "Technically, Jack isn't part of my crew, so that's not a trade I can make."

Jack sighed and sat down on the edge of a nearby cannon, feeling a lot like an item up for auction. He knew Will's game now, and the boy wouldn't be giving him up, but Jack wondered why they didn't just kill the Pirate Lords. It's not like Will would lose any men and it would save a lot of breath.

Then Jack could take one of their ships to replace the Pearl! Though, no ship could truly replace the Pearl… Jack's heart sunk. He really needed a drink.

Out past the starboard side, several hundred yards away from the Dutchman, a massive dark shape caused the water to swell. It broke the surface briefly, showing a flash of smooth, eel-like skin. Jack noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, but, when he turned to search the waters, he saw nothing. He chalked it up as his nerves and turned back to the increasingly heated argument between Jocard and William.

"Jack is also a Captain, so unless you're willing to offer up yourself, I don't see this being fair. You've got nothing to offer me."

"Be reasonable you little-"

Will put his hand over the hilt of his sword and Gentleman Jocard stopped just before the insult left his mouth.

"Get off my ship," Will growled at them. His crew advanced on the intruders, threatening them with their swords and pistols. The other pirates looked to their Captain's for orders.

Chevalle was the first to back out, "Back to the boats."

Jocard grabbed the Frenchman's lace collar, "We don't retreat."

"Unlike you, I know when I'm beat," Chevalle snapped and slapped the bigger man's hand away. "Pull back to the boats."

Mistress Ching followed suit and ordered her men back. Jocard was more hesitant to do so, but as his backup disappeared on dinghies and swung back to their ships on lines, his resolve faltered. He cursed profusely and glared at Jack, "This isn't over Sparrow!"

"Like I haven't heard that before," Jack answered under his breath.

The last of the pirates left the ship in snatches and Will crossed the deck to pick up his boots and shirt. William watched the hordes return to their respective boats, wondering how long it would be until they came back. They wouldn't give up easily. Perhaps they could plead with Captain Teague to add another line to the Code restricting what the Lords could do to their king.

Breath ghosted across Will's cheek and he couldn't suppress his smile. "What will you do when you don't have me here to protect you?" Will teased softly.

"Die, I'd suspect. Or get on like I did before I met the likes of ye."

A great, bellowing screech cut through their conversation, a sound very much like rending metal. Will and Jack turned in unison as a beast rose from the water; its gaping maw released a long hiss.

"That's interestin'," Jack murmured.

It was a long, thin beast with spine-like appendages forking off its body. Sitting atop the muscular, stringy body was a long head covered in bony prominences and full of teeth. The creature's smooth green skin gleamed in the Caribbean sun, giving its flesh a bluish sheen. The tiny slits that Will assumed were eyes seemed to come to rest on them.

The crew broke into a frenzy.

"Sea serpent!" someone hollered, like the rest of the men couldn't figure it out for themselves.

Pistols went off all over the ship and several wounds opened across the beast's long body. It only took notice when a bullet glanced across its head, causing it to hiss fiercely. The man who'd made the shot screamed as the beast slammed down on him faster than an eye blink and snapped him into its jaws. Bone crunched and blood oozed between the creature's teeth. Immortal or no, it was doubtful that he'd come back from that.

It swallowed the first mouthful of pirate, turning back to the others with a venomous gleam in its eye. William Turner pulled his men out of their shocked stupor with one order, "To the cannons!"

One of the other ships floating nearby seemed to have the same idea and a cannon ball whistled through the air towards them. The large slug of metal rocketed into the water a few feet from the beast, tossing the sea into the sky.

The serpent turned away from the Dutchman, giving her crew plenty of time to prepare their guns, but it crashed back into the choppy waves before they got the chance to fire. The dark shape of the snake whipped through the water faster than any pirate vessel had ever dreamed of traveling. Will tried to follow it with his gaze, judging the beast to span at about seventy or eighty feet in length.

"Hold your fire!" He yelled at his men. "We won't hit it from here, so don't waste the cannon-shot."

It burst from the water near the ship that had fired upon it and tore through her main mast. The tall structure crashed onto the deck, taking down the foremast in its descent. The beast curled its long body around the boat, snapping up any man it could get to. The pirates began to flee the vessel like rats and jumped off any edge they could. The ocean was soon full of small figures swimming for the nearby safety of the other ships.

"Isn't that Jocard's ship?" Will leaned into Jack to ask.

The man grinned broadly, showing every one of his gold-capped teeth, and nodded as he watched the boat go under. "It is indeed."

Will glanced over at him and mentioned, "Well, I wouldn't smile quite so much. It could do that to us."

Jack's smirk faded instantly. "Shouldn't we be shooting it… or something? You're the one in charge here, whelp, give some orders."

"Not yet."

"What do ye mean 'not yet', do need it to be biting yer ass before ye shoot at it?!"

"No, I just need it to be closer."

Will jumped up onto the railing to get a better look at things.

The beast seemed satisfied with the damage it had done to Jocard's schooner and sunk beneath the water. This was the moment that Chevalle decided to turn tail and flee. He tacked in favor of the wind and tried to put as much distance between his boat and the monster as possible. The beast swirled under the waves, moving towards the Frenchman.

Will turned to the gunman nearest him, "Fire."

The man gave him a confused look and peered out at the water, "But sir, you said not to waste the shot. There's no way we'll hit him."

"I don't want to hit him, I just want his attention."

"Isn't that the opposite of what we want?" Jack asked with a rather wild hand gesture. "I say, let him eat the Frenchy and we haul anchor and head the other direction. I've never been very fond of the man anyway… he's a bit too… French for me."

"Fire."

The man didn't argue at the second order and touched his punk to the cannon's wick. The shot exploded in a cloud of white smoke and the cannon rolled backwards into its anchor ropes. It flew as far as a large hunk of metal could before dropping into the water a few feet behind the serpent.

The dark shadow beneath the sea stopped.

"I think that got its attention, what now?" Jack posed in the least confrontational voice he could muster.

"Now, let's just hope we can kill it before it kills us."

"That's the plan?!"

A crease formed in Will's brow when he thought about how hopeless the idea sounded. "Um… yes."

The beast was faster in the water than any shark or dolphin and they were expecting to hit it with cannon shot. It did seem a bit desperate. Said beast had turned beneath the water and was now headed straight for them.

"Ye've gone mad," Jack muttered.

Will smiled and hopped off the rail, returning, "Mad like you, Jack." He left the pirate with that and went back to the helm. "Haul the anchor and ready the cannons!"

Jack Sparrow thought about the whelp's words. He wasn't that crazy, was he? Sure he got drunk plenty, but what pirate didn't? No time to think about that now.

Every cannon on the starboard side took aim. If the creature didn't come to the surface before it struck them, there'd be no hitting it at all. The shots would just go wild in the water and lose all their speed.

The beast was about hundred yards from them and closing fast.

"Break the water," William whispered a quiet plea to any god who might be listening.

When it reached fifty yards, his crew got nervous. There wasn't much that could make the Dutchman's pirates twitchy, but this thing was like the Kraken and he had been no easy beast to kill.

Twenty-five yards, and Jack could feel the sweat running down his neck. He'd really rather not return to the Locker by way of beastie. The first occasion really hadn't been all that pleasant.

At fifteen yards, the creature's head broke the surface of the water and it rose up like an Indian cobra.

"Fire!" Will and Jack yelled at once, but the sailors barely needed the order.

A half-second after the word died on the air every cannon was blazing. Shots landed all around the beast in a storm of seawater, but a lucky few ripped into its body. The monster screeched and tossed its head into the air. The sound was deafening, and pirates would later claim they could smell rotting fish when it roared.

The crew raced to reload before the beast collected itself and attacked again, but they hardly had time enough to draw breath. The monster's tail smashed across the line of their cannons, tossing men and metal alike.

Jack leapt back from the attack and dodged across the main deck to the Dutchman's port side. One of the creature's coils slammed into the deck ahead of him, missing him by inches. He climbed over the obstacle. While the beast was occupied trying to eat Will's men, he cut through a port cannon's ties and got it turned about. Hoping it was loaded, Jack snatched up a stray light and touched it to the wick.

"Smile pretty," Jack whispered.

The shot flew brilliantly, tearing through the beast's thick neck and coming clean out the opposite side. The monster bellowed, falling back into the sea before they could do any more damage.

Half a dozen faces peered over the Dutchman's side at the gurgling water. Deep crimson welled up out of the depths, the only sign of the creature that attacked them. No one dared speak a word of it in fear that it would return from the depths upon hearing them. Muscles tensed and trembled in preparation for another assault.

Will joined those brave enough to stand at the edge, "Is it dead?"

Bootstrap was the one to answer him, "A beast like that does not perish easily."

Jack reached to set the punk back down on the cannon, but his hand met with nothing but air. He turned his obsidian gaze away from William's ass (why the hell did the boy have to lean on the railing like that?) and took in an empty void where the cannon had been. He didn't really need to wonder where it had gone, because the broken balustrade behind the void gave him a very good idea.

Jack leaned slowly to glance over into the water, but there was no sign of the gun. There was a reason they kept cannons tied down… Recoil could be a terrible thing.

"Whelp?"

Jack looked up but the boy apparently hadn't heard him. He and his father were discussing the nature of beasties and were rather involved in the conversation. Captain Sparrow grumbled slightly and picked his way across the wreckage. It was his firm opinion that, if the whelp didn't notice that one of his cannons was missing, then who was he to give him the bad news.

He was about to call the whelp's name, but something furry dropped onto his shoulders, turning the call into a yell. The distressed yowl had the nervous crew on their toes instantly. Guns and swords were drawn and eyes dashed across the ship to find the new foe.

Will whipped around to find Jack flailing about in a circle trying to grab hold the brown creature on his back. It was hard to tell exactly what it was, but it had a firm hold on the pirate and had no intention of letting go. William tried to take aim but Jack's wild movements threatened to put him in the line of the bullet if he wasn't careful.

"Sit still Jack!"

Jack took no heed and continued to run about the ship. The creature bit down on the back of Sparrow's neck, whether it was a malicious act or because the thing was frightened, one couldn't be sure. Jack yelled at the sharp pain and managed to snag a furry appendage. The little terror wouldn't let go easily, but one solid tug and Jack managed to throw it to the deck. He pulled out his pistol and put a bullet in it.

The slug of lead barely seemed to affect the small beast and it scurried into the rigging. It was only then that anyone got a good look at it.

Jack rubbed the sore spot on his neck, glaring at the smirking creature, "Damn monkey."

Jack the monkey quirked his head to the side and gave a chattering screech. The undead creature didn't seem to be any worse for wear, considering it had now survived the sinking of two pirate ships and more than a plethora of bullets.

"I hate that monkey."

Will came up beside him to peer into the rigging, "At least he's good for stress relief. Who else do you get to shoot when you get mad?"

"Good point."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck again. At least the monkey hadn't drawn blood; a wound out at sea could prove to be quite deadly. Infection set in fast if a pirate wasn't careful.

"I'm beginning to think ye're bad luck, boy," Jack mentioned as he turned away from the pleased monkey.

Will gave him a sidelong glance. "And why's that?"

"Because that's the second beastie I've run into since I met ye and I didn't have much problem with them before this."

The boy shook his head, not bothering to respond.

Bootstrap Bill brought his Captain and son the report on the ship, "Well, she's pretty banged up, but she'll sail just fine until we can stop to fix her. I'd pray that it doesn't rain, 'cause she'll take on water through the deck. Otherwise, I think we can have her in top shape in a few days."

"Good," Will answered. "And the other ships?"

"The Gentleman's ship finally went under, but Captain Chevalle and Mistress Ching have managed to get away."

Letting the shroud of the Captain fall back into place, Will dished out orders and got the crew moving. He then dismissed his first mate with a smile and a nod. They tacked the sails and hoisted the anchor, getting on their way in case the serpent came back. In its current shape, the Dutchman might not survive a second encounter with that beast.

"Captain Sparrow, would you join me at the helm?" Will asked curtly and vaulted up the stairs.

Jack followed the boy with a smile. Being a Captain was indeed second nature to the lad, but it didn't always fit him. Some phrases just held no weight coming out of William's mouth, especially to one who knew him well.

The whelp kicked over a crate and unrolled the bamboo puzzle-map on top of it. "We're going to need your compass."

Jack pulled the device off his belt. "Do ye have any idea how to read that?" He asked, motioning at the map.

"No, I was hoping you knew more about it than I did."

The older pirate flipped the map around and turned several of the flat circles. He brought the _Aqua de Vida_ into line then flipped open the compass that doesn't point north. The needle swung madly before settling on the whelp.

Jack growled and gave the compass a good shake. He wouldn't be able to keep the boy if he couldn't become immortal, so the damn thing needed to point at the Fountain before it could point at the lad. He knew he wanted William; he really didn't need help with that anymore.

With enough mental griping, the compass slowly swung round to give them a southerly direction.

"Well, there you have it. We must be coming down on the fountain from up here somewhere," Jack slid his index finger along the upper portions of the map just above the _Aqua de Vida_. He tried to make it sound convincing, like he knew exactly what he was talking about.

Will smirked and let him blow his hot air. "Alright then," he said and glanced at the compass, "You keep watch on the heading and let me know if it changes." The lad took the helm. "Let's go find your immortality."

----------------

For weeks, the Flying Dutchman traveled the seas. It passed to the Locker when necessary, doing its job there, and then returning to the trek south. The crew did repairs to her on quiet days to keep themselves occupied, but when she was in top shape, they found other ways to pass the time.

Dice was the favorite diversion among the sailors, but the Dutchman's Captain and his lover kept themselves occupied in a less traditional fashion. Bootstrap would watch the helm while they were gone, retiring for rest and a bit of leisure himself when Will returned.

It was in this manner that the Flying Dutchman passed off the known maps and into uncharted waters. They entered the portion of the map that read 'here there be monsters'. Will would have thought it to be a load of piratical superstition, had they not already encountered their first monster. He and his crew kept a wary eye out for any other such creatures.

A terrible tropical storm whipped up on their second week, tossing the Dutchman like she was just a plaything. The crew hung on for deal life as the waves crashed all around them. Lightning lanced through the sky in fiery tendrils and the following thunder was louder than the voice of god. When the tempest had finally passed, everyone onboard was ready to have some solid ground under their feet, even Will. But the lad wouldn't feel solid ground for many years yet.

The little bit of water they'd managed to gather during the storm lasted another few days before Jack (being the only mortal human being on the ship) had to resort to rum for hydration. He had no complaints. It wasn't until the food supplies ran low that he had any problems.

Jack leaned at the helm with William, starring at the needle that never seemed to waver. "I'm beginning to think that this place might be imaginary," the older pirate mentioned offhandedly. He took another swig from his rum bottle and snapped the compass closed.

"I'm beginning to agree with you," William answered.

Against his better judgment, he snagged the bottle from Jack's hand and took a drink as well. He wrinkled his nose at the taste, but had another hit before he passed it back. "I don't understand how you can drink that stuff."

"I suppose its an acquired taste. I suspect you'll like it better when you get olde-" Jack bit off the tail-end of his sentence. "Although, I guess you won't be getting any older."

Will got very quiet, forcing Jack to barrel on.

"I mean, and what are ye really missing there? Sure ye'll never grow any chest hair and that scraggly thing ye call a beard won't get to lookin' like an actual beard, but they're a bit overrated anyway… It's not like ye got stuck in puberty…" Jack trailed off, not sure he was helping any. He snuck a look at the boy through the corner of his eye and was relieved to find a slight smile on his face.

"Not that you'd know anything about chest hair," Will mocked quietly. "You don't exactly have any."

Jack scoffed as though offended, "I do so have chest hair!"

Will raised an eyebrow at him, giving Jack his best 'oh really' look. "I don't think a sprinkling of hairs really counts for anything. Most men who are proud of their hair look like they killed a small bear and glued it to their chest. You, Jack, are a far cry from that."

The man next to him opened his mouth as if to argue, but found no comeback. Instead, he screwed his face into a quizzically thoughtful expression and glanced down at the smooth expanse of skin peeking through his shirt.

"Damn," he muttered. The lad was right, he had no hair.

Will chuckled, "Why are we even having this discussion?"

"Can ye think of something else to babble on?"

"Not really."

"Then there you have it-" the rest of Jack's words died before leaving his lips when the monkey decided to use his back as a springboard. A curse slipped out instead and he looked up to yell something obscene at the small creature. That, too, never made it out of his mouth, for clutched in the animal's tiny hands was Jack's prized hat.

"Me hat!" Jack yelped and scrambled after the mischievous mammal.

The long-tailed simian cackled happily to be receiving some attention, dragging the tri-corn up into the rigging. Jack was hot on his heels, but wasn't nearly as quick in the rope system as the animal. The monkey stopped when it got too far ahead and screeched and jeered until the pirate was almost within reach. Jack swiped at it, but it scuttled farther up the lines.

Will rolled his chocolate-brown eyes and tried to give his companion some advice, knowing full well that it would fall on deaf ears, "Leave it alone Jack. When he get's bored, he'll drop your hat."

As expected, Mr. Sparrow didn't listen. He continued to curse and stay just one step behind the furry creature.

"There's no way you can catch him up there."

Bootstrap came up to the quarterdeck and followed his boy's gaze. "What in all the hells is Jack doin'?" It was truly curious behavior, even for Captain Sparrow.

"The monkey stole his hat," the younger Turner explained.

"Ah," Bill laughed heartily and got seated on the crate that should have been carried into the lower decks some time ago. "Then he'll be up there until one of them gets tired."

"You've known Jack longer than I have, has he always been this stubborn?"

"Absolutely."

Feeling his father had more to say, Will looped a rope over one of the helm's spokes and sat beside the older man.

Bill continued with an amused edge to his voice, "Once that man get's something in his head, he'll not let it go. That goes the same for possessions too. If Jack decides that somethin' belongs to him, there's not a man, beast, or monster that can stand in his way. He's been that way since the first day I met him."

William took the opportunity to settle an old curiosity, "How did you meet him?"

"I suppose I should first start by telling you that I haven't always been a pirate," Bill began, getting a distant look in his eyes. "I left England shortly after you were born. I thought I could earn some money for us in the Caribbean, but I didn't anticipate how hard things would be. I got myself into trouble very quickly, incurring some debt with one of the plantation owners, so I ran. I wound up in the port of Tortuga, hoping I could barter my way onto a ship heading back to Europe, but I found that the only ships that made birth there were-"

"Pirate ships," Will finished softly.

His father nodded and continued, "As you probably know, Tortuga isn't always a friendly place if you are a pirate, so you'd be a damn fool to go there if you weren't. I tried to blend with the crowd there, but it didn't take long for someone to recognize me as an outsider. They knew exactly what they were going to do with me." Bill emphasized the meaning by slashing his thumb across his throat. "That's when Jack showed up. He saved my neck and offered me work on his ship, which was still his then. It was rumored that he'd made a deal with Davy Jones himself to become Captain of the Black Pearl… which turned out to be much more than a rumor. I was only on Jack's ship about two years when his first mate decided to toss him overboard. I stayed quiet because I knew Barbossa would have me killed as well, but it wasn't until we became cursed men that I figured out how to avenge him."

"That's when you sent the Aztec gold to me."

"Aye, that's when I sent you part of the treasure. Since they needed all of the pieces to break the curse, I sent one of mine to you so they could never get out of the punishment that they deserved as mutinous men. Well, that made Barbossa furious and they tossed me overboard as well… Boy…" Bootstrap faltered and ran a hand through his hair. "Boy, whatever happened to your mother?"

Will took a very keen interest in his boots. He hadn't thought about his mother in a very long time and he really didn't want to bring her back to mind now. He avoided the question with a sharp query of his own, "When you decided to become a pirate, did you ever even think about coming home again? Or were you so wrapped up in your new life that your old one was forgotten?"

Bill winced, seeming to suffer almost a physical blow at the boy's words. His son regretted them immediately. "I thought about you and your mother every waking hour in the day, wondering when I could get home again. I hoped that pirating would earn me enough money to buy passage back to the both of you," he admitted bitterly and got up. Becoming a pirate had not been his proudest moment, but he'd done it regrettably as a last choice. Bootstrap started back down the stairs, but his son's voice made him pause.

"She died."

Bill turned back.

"A few years after you sent me the gold, she got sick and never got better," William's voice cracked just slightly, but he continued, "It was during my sixth or seventh winter. Mother couldn't ever seem to get warm and ended up in bed for several weeks. When she stopped working, we didn't have enough money to pay the doctor and he wouldn't come to see her. I tried to pay him with the Aztec gold, but he didn't think it was real. Then one morning, I just couldn't get her to wake up…" When the lad looked up, his features were strained. "That's when I came to find you."

Bootstrap's insides felt like they'd been shot with a cannon ball. He crossed back to his boy, but wasn't sure what to do. His hand hovered over Will's slumped shoulders. How much affection was too much at this point in William's life? Was he too old for a hug? Would he push him away? He was still torn when his Captain spoke again.

"She stood at the window all the time when I was little. She would stand there and talk about you, like you were this great conquering hero that would come around the corner any minute. For a long time, I believed her."

Bill pulled his hand away. "I'm sorry lad," the older man managed to mutter. The boy had grown into a man without him, and there was no room for his affection now. It was the sullenness in Will's voice that kept his father at bay.

Their tense moment was split in two by a loud voice from the rigging. "Land ho!" Jack shouted with a laugh. Every pair of eyes turned to see a slim strip of green on the horizon. It was a very beautiful sight after so many days at sea.

-----------

TBC


	8. The Fountain and the Serpent

So, here's my usual 'sorry it took me so damn long' thing… I was working two jobs, against my better judgment, and was still going to full-time college. I've now quit one job, so I hope I can do more writing.

I didn't send this in to beta, so if you see any glaring mistakes, let me know.

-------------

The Dutchman dropped anchor some ways from the spit of land, just in case there were reefs hidden around the island. A reef could sink or strand a ship more quickly than a beastie. William's crew prepared the few landing craft they had, packing one with empty crates to bring back fresh goods and the other with men to search the island for food.

Jack climbed aboard the first. He paused with one foot on the deck and the other in the ship, "Yer men aren't going to leave me out there, are they?"

Will raised his eyes from checking the firing mechanism on his gun, asking, "Why would you think that?"

"I don't exactly have the best record with islands."

The Dutchman's Captain shoved his pistol back into its holster and yelled at his men, "No one leaves Jack behind!"

He got a chorus of 'Aye, sir' before looking back at his lover, "There, now they have their orders."

Jack stayed stationary for a moment longer and nodded, stepping into the small craft. When William made to follow after him, he put a hand on the boy's chest, "What are ye doin'?"

"Coming with… right," Will recalled his land situation halfway through his sentence. The realization damped his mood like water on a fire. "I forgot again," he mumbled.

Jack's obsidian gaze softened. He made sure the crew was still busy lowering the first dinghy and snagged a handful of William's hair to bring him in for a heated kiss with plenty of tongue. When he separated from the younger man, he gave him a gold-capped grin, "When I get back, we'll make more of that."

Will tried to trail after his lips, but couldn't seem to catch up with them. He opened his eyes when Jack chuckled at him. The boy smiled back at him, but it didn't quite reach the rest of his features.

"Alright."

"Good, now- Monkey!" Jack's transition left William blinking stupidly. The older pirate dashed around him and snagged the furry creature out of the lines, pulling his hat roughly from its tiny hands. "That's MY hat!" He dropped the simian and tapped the tri-corn back into place atop his crown.

Will couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Your maturity level astounds me."

Jack ignored the comment.

The Dutchman's crew shoved off, leaving William alone on his ship. He leaned at the rail until the dinghies landed, glancing over at the undead monkey once his men had disappeared into the trees. The creature returned to the rigging after Jack released him and was now drooping off a bracer line. Monkey Jack sighed. If Will didn't know any better, he'd say the animal was moping.

"You miss Barbossa, don't you?"

The small creature peered quizzically at him when he spoke. Will noted, with some amusement, that Jack and his simian counterpart both titled their head when trying to understand something. It was a similarity that he wouldn't bring up with his companion; it would probably make Jack touchy to be compared to the 'damn monkey'.

Will offered the animal his hand, "Let's go see if we can't find you something to eat."

Whether it was the words or his gesture, the monkey didn't hesitate at the offer and leapt onto Will. He curled comfortably on the Captain's shoulders. Will smiled and gave the animal a quick scratch behind the ears.

------------

Jack helped unload several of the empty crates before he turned his attention to his tricky compass. It was possible that this spit of an island was home to the Fountain, but it could very well be beyond the islet on some other land mass.

A shadow fell across his shoulder as he flipped the device open, "Do you think you can find what you're searching for?"

Jack didn't look up at Bootstrap, instead watching the needle swing in sporadic circles. "Maybe… or maybe I'll find some rum. Either way suits me," he muttered at William's father.

His response roused a chuckled from Bill and the older man shook his head. "Alright. We'll send someone out to find you when we're heading back."

The needle settled in a solid direction as Jack got his mind set on what he wanted. Without another word, Jack marched off into the dense undergrowth. Large leaves and vines slapped against his body like the jungle was trying to grab hold of him. This island was not a place man was meant to go. There were no animal trails and no calling birds. The air was as quiet as the morning after a drunken party. It made Jack uncomfortable.

"I really hope there aren't any cannibals," Jack whispered to himself.

The compass held true, for the most part. Occasionally, it would spin wildly as Jack lost his focus. He would will it back under control and continue his march, keeping a sharp eye out for men with painted skin and filed teeth. One could never be sure how many Caribbean islands had cannibals on them.

Although, they'd gone far enough south to leave Caribbean waters. It was possible they were on an island with a whole different breed of crazy natives. Maybe he'd run into some who wore human skin, or kept human pets.

Jack glanced down to see the needle wavering again. He cursed and gave it a shake. If he didn't keep his mind from wandering, he'd end up hopelessly lost in more ways than one. It settled again and Jack adjusted his path, pushing a particularly leafy plant out of his way. The flora didn't bend as willingly as he'd hoped and he whipped out his sword to chop it into submission.

Jack considered saying something spiteful at the bush, but the phrase died when he realized where he was. The dirt had given way to soft sand and the needle was now unwaveringly pointing out to sea… at William's ship.

Frustrated, the pirate charged back into the jungle. He would not be beaten by his own desires. He shoved his way past every obstacle, watching the needle of his compass resolutely. A few minutes later, he emerged on the same stretch of beach and found himself staring out at the Flying Dutchman.

Jack yelled at the aggravating tool. It didn't help anything, but it made him feel a little better, "I KNOW I want me whelp! I can't BE with me whelp if ye don't show me where this damn fount'n is!"

The needle did an about-face as Jack glared at it. Begrudgingly, he turned to follow it. He really didn't trust it to lead him far and he wasn't disappointed. A few steps into the foliage, the needle began to waver and was spinning rapidly several hundred yards from the beach.

Jack sighed and closed the compass, tying it back to his belt. Muttering colorful words under his breath, he dropped onto a rock to give his feet a rest. There wasn't much he could do about the tool. While he knew that the problem was with him, not the compass, he was still determined to blame it. It was mocking him. If the Fountain was on the island, he wasn't going to find it with his current tools.

Jack pulled the bamboo map from under his sash and unrolled it. The cryptic circles smiled up at him from their puzzling configuration. The map held more secrets than Jack cared to ponder on, but he wasn't sure that it would be able to tell him the Fountain's exact location. He twisted several of the puzzle pieces to reveal his prize.

There was very little information about the legendary object. It was drawn in a little ways from an unfamiliar land mass, labeled in what he thought might be Spanish or French. It was more likely to be Spanish, because the Spaniards had boasted about explored much of the southern waters around the Americas.

The image of the Fountain was similar to an urn or pitcher, but maps didn't always have the best representation of things. Jack was well aware that it could take almost any shape. It might not even have water in it. The word 'fountain' could very well be the best explanation for the object.

While Jack fiddled with the Asian maps, he noticed movement at the edge of his vision. The tiny clearing he'd dropped into was taken up by a small well of water. It wasn't a stream, because it wasn't going anywhere, but it couldn't exactly be called a pond either. Jack put away his map and took a closer look at the spring. It was just a trickle of water bubbling through a grouping of smooth stones. The perfectly clear water came up from its unknown source, ran down the rocks, and sank back into the earth. Jack slipped a hand into the running water. Under the scorching sun, the spring was surprisingly cool to the touch. He suspected it came from a deep source.

The pirate cupped his hand and allowed the liquid to pool in his palm. Water wasn't always safe to drink, so he gave it a quick sniff and taste test. If there was something wrong with it, Jack couldn't tell. The Dutchman's water supply was gone days ago and rum was only good at quenching thirst so long. Jack drank greedily.

The icy liquid was like heaven on Captain Sparrow's parched throat. It gave his tired muscles a second charge and cleared his head. It was like the first sip of rum after a long dry spell. Jack had never savored the taste of water as he did now.

"Jack, where the hell are ye?" Bootstrap's voice floated through the dense jungle.

The pirate stood and wiped off his mouth before yelling back, "Here."

"We're ready to shove off."

Feeling pretty good, considering he couldn't find what he came after; Jack cut a path back to the boats. William's crew was just loading up the rest of the goods when he got there. Jack picked up one of the remaining barrels and set it the dinghy he came in on. They'd carefully split up the produce between the two ships to keep the weight equal and did the same with the returning men. Coming back with a heavier load than they came with, one of the more experienced pirates determined that one or two of the men would have to swim back to avoid sinking. Maccus, the biggest among them, was chosen to do just that. He grumbled about it, but didn't put up much of a fight.

-------------

In his quarters, William put down his book when he heard his men climb aboard. They were being rather boisterous which meant they'd had a good haul. It would all be fresh, so it wouldn't last long unless preserved, but it would be nice to have a meal that wasn't weeks old.

Jack's voice broke through the rest, "Where's the damn monkey?" He sounded furious. Something went wrong.

Will glanced at the monkey perched on his shoulder. The animal seemed perfectly content considering him his new master and had yet to leave Will's presence. He might have to tell Jack to leave the monkey be.

The Dutchman's Captain pulled his boots off his desk, but didn't get the chance to rise. The doors to his quarters flew open and Jack Sparrow marched in with gun drawn. Before Will could speak or move, Jack cracked off a shot in his direction. The bullet hit its target with a sickening crunch and the monkey flew off Will's shoulder.

The boy sat in shock for a moment until his tongue found words to spit at him, "A bit close wasn't it?! I'm glad you're sure of your aim, because I don't think I'd be pleased if you'd hit me in the head!"

The monkey scampered off, unfazed by the bullet that passed through it. Jack turned the gun to shoot him again, but got nothing more than a click from the empty pistol. He curled his lip when the animal vanished through an open window.

"Did you hear me?" William asked sharply.

Jack shoved his gun back in its holster. "I heard ye."

The tension slowly leaked out of Will's frame and he slumped back into his chair, changing subjects, "What went wrong? I know my crew didn't try to leave you there."

Jack left the open port the monkey escaped through and crossed the cabin to his lover. "No, they didn't. I couldn't find the fount'n and me damn compass doesn't seem interested in workin' and I really just want to bugger ye into tomorrow," he leaned in to admit against Will's ear.

There was something to be said about unorthodox attempts to cool William's tempter… they always seemed to work. Bootstrap's son quickly forgot the incident with the monkey and turned his attentions to the truly evil things Jack's hands were doing beneath his shirt. He barely managed to keep his mind on topic, "Why did you think it was on this island?"

"Pirate's instinct?" Jack offered softly.

Will made an affirming noise that melted into a purr as Jack's lips began exploring chest. It took several minutes of mind-numbing pleasure before Will realized something, he couldn't feel Jack's beard. There was the occasional brush of his nose and the constant sensation of his lips, but no facial hair. William almost let it slip, since it was probably his imagination, but a quick look at Jack's face told him it was anything but.

The younger man pushed his partner to arm's length to get a good look at him. Jack complained about being interrupted, but his words went unheeded. The man's whole face looked younger. He had fewer wrinkles around his eyes and his beard and mustache were nowhere to be seen. In a confused panic, Will started examining the rest of him. Jack's clothes were loose, like he'd gotten smaller, and his bandanna was slipping down over his eyes.

Jack stopped complaining about Will pushing him off when he caught the look on the boy's face. "What?"

William's eyes grew impossibly wide.

Even Jack's voice had changed. It had gotten higher, more childlike. There was definitely something wrong. Will vaulted out of the chair, knocking his lover back in the process. He looked around frantically while Jack continued to question him. Without another idea, Will pulled Jack's sword out of its sheath and presented the flat blade to him. In the tiny reflection, Captain Sparrow saw what Will was worked up about.

"I'm turnin' into a whelp, whelp!"

"I've noticed…"

Jack tilted the blade to get a better look, but it didn't seem to change anything. To add insult to injury, his pants began slipping off, bluntly reinforcing the fact that he was getting smaller. Jack grabbed at his belt to keep them up. He put the blade away and looked back at William, realizing that he was now several inches shorter than the other man.

"I think we have a problem mate," Jack stated in a voice that was no longer his.

Will nodded, "That… that we do…"

Jack tried to look on the bright side of things. At least he wasn't getting older quickly. Once he stopped aging, he would have time to catch back up, since Will wouldn't change. Unless he didn't stop going backwards… What if he turned into a baby and then ceased to be? He'd never heard of anything like that happening before, but stranger things had occurred.

"It could be worse, I guess. I could start looking like Davy Jones," Jack jested as lightly as he could.

Will didn't find it amusing. "What do you mean 'it could be worse'? You're turning into a child! How are we going to get you back to normal?"

Jack's hat fell into his face and he pushed it back up with his free hand. He was now at least foot shorter than his lover. "We ask someone who knows a lot about a lot of things."

"Do you know such a person?" Will questioned, getting the distinct impression that Jack looked like a child playing in his father's clothes.

"I do, but I can't say she'll be willin' to help."

"Wait! You're talking about Calypso, aren't you? Isn't that a bad idea? Aren't you one of the ones who imprisoned her?" Will started pacing, his agitation rising into panic. Jack was shrinking before his eyes and Calypso was his idea of a solution? The goddess wasn't trustworthy. After all, she'd practically made a pact to destroy all pirates.

Jack quirked a grin, "Well, I always was one of her favorites."

Will felt a major headache coming on, but he resisted the urge to rub his temples; he didn't think it would help. "Alright… how to we find her?" he sighed in defeat. There really didn't seem to be a better option and Will knew Jack wouldn't last long if he kept shrinking at his current rate.

"There's a way to request her presence, but that's really the only thing I know to do."

"Let's do it."

Jack raised his eyebrows, "Right now? I mean, I think I'm a little young to do that. I don't think the snake'll rise."

William rolled his eyes skyward at the comment, "Jack! That's not what I meant! How do we call her?" It did just go to show that the Pirate King really did have sex on the brain during any situation.

"Oh," Jack grabbed Will's arm and dragged him out onto the main deck, the boots that were far too big clunking against the wood. Every eye turned to the small child in Jack's clothes that darted out of the Captain's Quarters. Whispers and comments flew as the boy ran across the deck to lean over the rail. "Your dagger."

"What?"

Jack didn't ask a second time, but took the knife off Will's belt, "To request Calypso's presence, you must bleed for her." The child pirate ran the blade across his palm and made a fist. A stream of red fell into the waves.

They waited, but nothing happened. While they waited, Jack lost a few more inches and Will became skeptical. He crouched to wrap up Jack's hand and sighed, "I don't think she's coming."

Bootstrap set down the barrel he was moving into the lower decks and approached the bizarre scene, "William, who's the lad?"

Captain Turner looked up at his father, "It's Jack."

The older Turner gaped, open-mouthed and Jack griped at him, "You had a starfish on yer face once, so shut up."

All of the pirates snapped to attention as loud, disembodied laughter filled the ship. A sharp voice followed as it faded, "Witty Jack, 'as de trouble caught up wit ye again?"

Near the base of the ship, the ocean churned and frothed. Many wary eyes peered over the edge, looking for any sign of the goddess in the angry waters. Just as the turbulence began to dissipate, lines of crabs exploded from the deep, sending a faint mist into the air.

The army of crustaceans stormed up the sides of the ship, washing over cannons and crewmen alike, and gathered in the center of the deck. A mass of shelled creatures grew as they piled on top of each other and out of the mass came a grinning face that mocked them without words. The rest of Calypso melted and merged and formed in the chaos of crustaceans. As her dark skin formed and smoothed into being, the unneeded crabs scurried off the edges of the deck. A deep green material climbed up through the departing crabs, worming its way across the deck like a snake. Jack and Will staring in awe as the seaweed draped delicately across her naked body, the only ones on the deck having never witnessed Calypso's grand entrance before.

"Nice of ye not to be gigantic today," Jack chirped sarcastically, determined not to be terribly impressed by the show of power.

Gracefully ignoring the comment, Calypso smiled at the shrinking Captain, showing a mouthful of teeth that were black with rot. "Ye 'ad an encounter wit ancient majic Jack Sparrow, an' ye'll not come clean of it wit'out 'elp."

"You know what's happening then?" Will asked her.

The primeval goddess turned her dark eyes to the young pirate. "Ye be de boy dat be fillin' Davy's shoes."

William nodded curtly, slightly nervous now that he was the sole occupant of her attention. She looked very much like she did as a human, but Will could feel her power in her stare. It was like her eyes were pulling him into pieces, dissecting him for her amusement. The feeling made his skin crawl.

"I hope ye be keepin' up wit yer work or ye'll be doin' more dan fillin' 'im shoes." She warned cryptically, a smirk playing on her black lips. If she knew his fate, which she did, it couldn't be read in her features. Calypso shifted her gaze from curly-haired man to the child standing just behind him. Will placed himself in front of Jack in a protective gesture that made the goddess chuckle, "Den ye found who yer 'eart really belongs te."

"Yes," Jack and Will said in unison, not knowing who the question was directed at.

She cackled at the response. "I see dat. Even in de box, 'im 'eart don't lie. It get confused, but it don't lie."

Will wondered if he should be concerned that Calypso's words made so much sense. Jack and Calypso almost had a language all their own, but he was slowly getting used to it.

"Now, we best be slowin' ye down witty Jack or ye'll be not but a speck 'fore we be done." The goddess wound both hands around Jack's head, pressing her fingers hard against his skin, and leaned down to spit on the very top of his crown.

"Ew," Jack whined. "That's disgustin'. Ye couldn't slow things down without spittin' on me?"

"What now? How do we get him back to normal?" Will pressed, concerned that they'd lost too much time already.

"Now," Calypso straitened up. "Ye find de serpent dat guard 'im fountain. Jack must drink de blood of de guardian to return ta 'imself."

Jack and Will traded looks.

"Serpent?"

"Aye. De world be a perfect balance. De fountain be a great power dat gives life-"

"The fount'n was not exactly helpful," Jack muttered.

Calypso glared at him for the interruption, but plowed through his statement, "An de serpent takes dat life away. Ye must 'ave both before ye be immortal."

"Serpent," Will mused and rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "Jack, did you see a snake near the fountain?"

Jack tried to give him an annoyed look, but it failed miserably as his hat fell across his eyes. He groaned and pushed it back, his arms flailing in his frustration. "I didn't even know it was the bloody fount'n! It looked like a pile of rocks with a spring comin' out of it!"

"But did you see-"

"No," he griped, trying to wrestle his sleeves off of his hands and up around his elbows. The more he fooled with them, the more tangled he seemed to get until Will took pity on him and rolled them up.

Calypso chuckled. "Ye be thinkin' much too small Captain."

It struck the young Captain much like a lighting bolt might. His eyes widened and his mouth opened several times before he managed to speak, reminding Jack of a beached fish. "Serpent, like sea serpent?!"

The maritime goddess nodded slowly, her heavy dreadlocks sliding rhythmically across her shoulders.

Their argument had drawn quite a crowd, but the Dutchman's crew didn't interrupt until the insane idea of hunting down a sea serpent came into the conversation. Every man hollered his disapproval.

Will yelled into the clamor to get their attention, "If it's the only way to fix Jack, then that's what we're going to do!"

Jack spoke in the silence following William's words, "We can NOT go after it and avoid be snacked on by a beastie. Either way I'm going to die."

"We're not going to die." Someone snorted his disagreement and Will glared at him. "We aren't! We fought it before and we can do it again. How do we find it?"

Ogilvy snapped a sarcastic idea, "Why don't we just float around for a while. I'm sure it'll attack us again."

"No, Jack doesn't have that kind of time."

Calypso raised her voice above the others, the power of a crashing wave behind it, "I will summon 'im, but der be a price for dat."

"Price," Will echoed. "What kind of price?"

Her lips curled up slowly, "I'll not tell ye 'till da deed be done."

The young captain was not very welcoming to the idea of a pact he didn't know the terms for, but Calypso's attempt to slow Jack's aging seemed to have worn off and they couldn't have much longer. His crew leaned in, awaiting his answer with bated breath. It wasn't wise to offer so much to the sea goddess, but no one was willing to tell him so with her standing quite so near. She'd probably turn whoever dared speak into a snack for the sharks.

Jack wailed, "I'm not gettin' any older whelp! Just agree already!"

"Fine." Will held out his hand.

Calypso eyed him in a sultry manner and moved around him, whispering as she passed, "Yer word be enough, young captain. We summon de beast like ye summon de Kraken, wit de crank dat sends sound through de ocean. 'im will come to de sound."

Will nodded at his crew. A handful of them went to the crank near the back of the main deck. His father stepped forward. "Lad, what do we do once the serpent gets here?"

"I don't know," the younger Turner muttered.

They needed the animal's blood to help Jack. Just killing it wouldn't solve anything. If they killed it with cannon-fire, it would sink into the sea and take what they needed with it. They needed it to be… cooperative, or they'd lose the beast and Jack.

Will followed after Calypso, "How can I command it, like the Kraken? I know you know how."

The shaman tilted her head and gave William a disturbing, black grin, "I migh' know dat, but de price be risin' if I tell ye."

Will hesitated. He still didn't know what her terms were yet and he was already wading into deeper water. A quick look at his shrinking companion made up his mind. Jack appeared to be about two years old and was chasing the immortal monkey across the deck in a toddle. "Alright." Whatever he was agreeing to, it couldn't be much worse than his current curse and he had no intention of marching through immortality alone.

"Good, den dere be an easy way to do dis."

A spire climbed out of the crank and dropped back into the water with a heavy thud. The summoning noise resonated through the ocean much like that of the bell, but harmless souls were not what would come to the Dutchman. Every pirate watched the water with bated breath.

"When de beast comes, de creature must be called to de boat and committed by de ancient ritual of binding. De organ be de way to sooth de beast and bring 'im close. De ye know 'ow to play?"

Will shook his head, feeling another price hike rising on her tongue.

"I ken play it, but..."

"I know, I know, there's a price. I agree."

Laughter shook Calypso's frame, "I 'ave a special task ye ken do for me payment when de beast is dealt wit'. For now, ye be needin' to know 'ow to claim 'im."

With a terrible scream, the serpent broke the surface just outside of the Dutchman's cannon reach. Its upper body rose out of the water as it eyed the pirate ship. The hungry gaze made William very nervous, but Calypso completely ignored the creature.

"When me song calls de creature, ye must place yer hand on de creature and say de words 'I claim ye in me name and bid ye to do as I command,'" she raised her hands before her as she recited the words, her eyes falling shut.

Will leaned forward imperceptibly, waiting for the rest. "And?"

Her hands dropped to her sides, "It be a pirate ritual. Did ye expect more den dat?"

It seemed almost disappointing, just like every other incantation Will had encountered, "No… I guess not. We're not very creative, are we?"

"De pirate be more simple den de beastie, 'im cannot remember a ritual more den a few words," Calypso stated matter of factly.

Will ran the phrase through his head a few times to ensure that he wouldn't make a foolish mistake and moved to the edge of the ship. He wasn't a full-blooded pirate, so hopefully he wouldn't have any trouble… "Alright," Will nodded at the ancient goddess, "I'm ready."

While Calypso disappeared into the Captain's Quarters, Will vaulted up to the highest deck to greet the serpent. The beast vanished beneath the waves and whipped towards the Dutchman. It would only take seconds to reach them. Will turned to his quarters, but still couldn't hear any music. He gave a backup order to his crew, "I want the cannon's ready in case this doesn't work… and somebody find Jack and get him out of the way."

Will caught the smell of rotting fish and turned to peer into an eye the size of a dinner plate. The pupil dilated slightly and twitched as it examined him. The beast's thick lips pulled away from teeth as long as William's forearm and a blast of acrid breath made his nose wrinkle. Water fell off the beast in rivers, pooling on the deck as the serpent arched back to tower over both Will and his ship.

The immortal Captain slipped his hand over the hilt of his sword, but it seemed like a useless gesture. The creature had lived through numerous hits from cannon-fire, so three feet of sharpened steel probably wouldn't be much good. He fell back a step and drew his blade anyway.

Fear twisted his insides as a long hiss escaped from the creature's open jaws. He wanted to run, to order the ship to the other side where this monster could not reach them, but there was a deeper emotion that kept him rooted to the spot. He wanted to call it courage, even though he knew it to be something a good deal more foolish than that.

This beast was the only thing that could save Jack and Will wasn't going anywhere until he had the creature's blood, one way or another.

The world fell silent, save for Will's breathing and the beast's low growl. There was no music to tame the beast and the hunger in its fierce eyes spoke of vengeance. In the back of his mind, Will could sense his crew scrambling to get a cannon aimed at the creature, but they were miles away.

The eyes of man and beast locked and a challenge fell from William's mouth in a whisper, "Come and get me."

As if his words were the trigger, the serpent hissed and hurtled towards him. The young Turner raised his sword to greet the Fountain's Guardian, not sure how it could possibly save him from being eaten alive. Light vanished as the beast blocked out the sun and its jaws closed around him.

William shut his eyes, breathing a prayer to anyone who would listen. When there was no excruciating pain, he barely dared peek at what had happened. The teeth had stopped a hair's breadth from him, leaving him mostly enclosed in the creature's foul mouth. Hot, sticky saliva dripped into Will's hair and rolled down his shoulder and back, urging him to groan and lower his sword, "Disgusting…" He scraped his fingers through his hair and shook the globs off his hand.

Muffled, but heavily laced with concern, his father's voice broke through the sounds of the creature's steady breathing, "William, lad, are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," his yell was too loud in his own ears. Will glanced down to see that he was still standing on the deck of his ship. At least he wouldn't have to climb down to get out of the serpent's mouth. Crouching low, Will slipped out from beneath the long ragged jaws. Before his eyes could even readjust to the bright Caribbean sun, his father grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

"I thought I'd lost ye."

Will returned his father's hug, surprised by the ferocity of his concern, "I'm fine. Besides, didn't you say that Davy was the sea itself? How could something like that kill me?"

Music softly floated to his ears in the quiet following his statement. The song was peaceful and slow, nothing like the wrenching melody Davy used to play. Will glanced up at the beast. The blind rage from before was gone, replaced by empty contentment.

Bootstrap released his Captain and gave the boy a strong pat on the shoulder, "Now would be the time lad. Claim him."

The song wouldn't hold the beast for long; a fire was already fighting to take hold in his eyes. William sheathed his sword and tentatively approached the stagnant creature. He circled around a protruding fin, placing his callused hands in the center of the beast's head. A low growl rolled out of its open mouth, but it didn't stir otherwise. Will swallowed and ran the ritual through his head again.

"I claim you in my name and bid you to do as I command," the Captain stated in a loud voice.

He might have been expecting too much, but the complete lack of reaction made Will look questioningly as his father. The older man shrugged. William stepped back, waiting for something profound to happen. Abruptly, silence filled the air and the beast tore from its trance. It whipped away from the deck and thrashed its head from side to side, bellowing loud enough to make the men cover their ears. To Will's dismay, the beast crashed back into the waves.

"Wait, come back!"

Will cursed and slammed his hands onto the ship's railing. Calypso's ritual hadn't worked and Jack would age into nothingness within minutes. He'd been close enough to slash the damn thing open and get all the blood he needed, but had gone with Calypso's plan instead. Now the creature was gone.

Captain Turner stormed across the deck to yell at the ocean goddess, "It didn't work! Now what? How do you expect us to get that thing back here in time to save Jack?"

Calypso emerged from his cabin with one hand on her hip and an expression that could melt iron. The goddess did not appreciate being screamed at. She would tolerate none of it.

Will's crew cringed at the very idea of Calypso's retribution. They knew her work and what she was capable of and it was not something man, nor immortal, wanted to provoke. They made no motion to stop their raging Captain, but regretted his words for him.

Behind Will, the great serpent rose slowly from the ocean, water sloughing off of it in sheets. It peered down at the yelling man with some curiosity, but William took no notice.

Calypso cut into the boy's tirade, "Dem beast be awaitin' ye order, unless ye be too busy wit me."

Bemused, Will turned and immediately felt like a fool. He would be apologizing to Calypso for the next few decades. "Oh."

The animal allowed Will to run his hands over its slick skin, making no move to attack or withdraw. In a firm voice, he told the creature he needed its blood and it put up no fight when he slipped his knife into the surface of its flesh. Will gathered the liquid in an empty water sack, before dismissing the obedient animal. It slipped back into the sea without a sound.

"Alright, where's Jack?" William asked and scanned the deck for the missing face.

The crew searched with him. No one was really sure where the lad had gotten off to. The monkey was perched high in the rigging, but had managed to lose his young pursuer. The crew looked under cannons and inside barrels, but to no avail, Jack was nowhere to be found.

An unthinkable idea crept into Will's head: Jack was gone. They were too late and now Jack was gone and there was no way to get him back. Panic cropped up as the rest of his mind accepted the thought. He pushed at it in denial.

"Find him!"

Calypso passed through Will's crew, amused by their blind searching. She clutched a bundle of clothing to her bosom, cooing softy at something within it. Bright, obsidian eyes peered out at her, a toothless smile spreading on the infant's face. Will noticed that the bundle Calypso was carrying was once Jack's shirt and it felt as though his heart dropped into his feet. That is, if he had one.

Cautiously, he slid up to Calypso and peered over her shoulder. Upon spotting Will, the baby giggled and reached out for him.

"I tink witty Jack be wantin' ye."

Will took the child mechanically, too deep in shock to say anything in response. Jack whined when the Captain held him at arm's length.

"De blood should not be forgotten," Calypso reminded him softly.

Will jerked out of his trance and stopped staring at what his lover had become. He pulled Jack close to cradle him in one arm while he wrestled with the water sack with his free hand. He popped the cork off with his thumb and offered it to the squirming child. Jack turned his face away from the putrid liquid.

"You have to drink it Jack," Will pleaded with him.

The infant made a face.

"Please Jack."

He maneuvered the opening into Jack's mouth and felt a small swell of relief when he accepted it. The baby had several swallows of the viscous liquid before spitting the drinking tip out of his mouth. He wailed unhappily about the flavor, but Will managed to force a little more down Jack's throat.

There was no immediate change. Jack didn't poof back to normal or start a quick reversal. Will dropped the water sack onto the deck. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, because he said some hasty words last time, but he wasn't sure there was any effect. He held Jack up to eye level.

"How long will it take for him to change back?"

Calypso smirked, "Days, months. De time is unknown, but he be changin' as he chooses."

"Months? What am I going to do with him? I don't know how to take care of a baby," Will complained as he tried to keep hold of a squirming armful of Jack.

"Dat not be me problem boy. I be back te collect me debt of ye," she said and dispersed in a shower of large black crabs.

Will rolled his eyes and adjusted his grip on Jack. He spotted Bootstrap among his rapidly dwindling crew, "Bill, give me a hand would you?"

"I would lad, but…" he looked around quickly, trying to find a good excuse, "But I have to check on our… gunpowder supplies, in case we get in a fight. Its important lad, otherwise I would... really." He shuffled off and disappeared below deck.

The remains of the crew made various excuses and followed suit, leaving Will alone with the baby. He looked down at Jack with raised eyebrows. "I guess I'll figure it out then, but its one hell of a time to learn."

Covered in saliva and aching to have his lover back to normal, Will gave the child a small glare, "You're going to owe me big for this."

-------------

Ok, so most of you had theories as to why there wouldn't be any sex, but what do you think of what really happened? I hope you enjoyed it. There will be some mayhem as Jack gets older and Will is going to get a first hand look at what his mother had to go through.

Let me know what you thought and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for the next chapter.


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